


The Family Jewel

by SiofraMarina



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 145,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiofraMarina/pseuds/SiofraMarina
Summary: The daughter of Celegorm and Aredhel and the son of a certain Gondolin Lord grow up in Oromë's woods oblivious to their true heritage. A tournament in Tirion reveals hidden truths, secrets and long lost relatives. The two are thrown head-first into the fight against Morgoth and the family drama continues. Can they save their loved ones from oaths, betrayal and dark tragic fates?
Relationships: Anairë/Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë, Aredhel/Celegorm | Turcafinwë, Beleg Cúthalion/Nellas, Dior Eluchíl/Nimloth of Doriath, Ecthelion of the Fountain/Original Character(s), Elenwë/Turgon of Gondolin, Eärwen/Finarfin | Arafinwë, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Idril Celebrindal/Tuor, Oromë/Vána (Tolkien)
Comments: 116
Kudos: 44





	1. Loved ones long gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone! After many years of reading,obsessing and fantasising about the Silmarillion/LOTR universe I am finally publishing my first story! This is a tale set during the events of the First Age, as two friends embark on a quest to discover their heritage and save certain relatives from certain doom/s.

Valinor First Age 505.

Two emerald eyes, filled with awe and wonder,gazed at the red, gold and rose coloured sky, laced with splashes of violet clouds as Anar sank into the horizon. Siofra sighed in contentment and peace, still amazed at the young -by elven standards- dusk and dawn. How her breath could be taken away by the ever changing sky.

She vaguely recalled the light of the trees, rare mornings with her Atto as he carried her on his shoulders through the forest she called home, remembered his smell leafy, earthy, his soft voice as he introduced her to a doe and her fawn, his laugh and smirk as he teased ...what was his name...the dark haired ner who always had a comeback to transform her Atto's look of triumph to one of slight annoyance. Oromë's woods were breathtakingly beautiful in those times, the days of glory in Aman. The years of the Trees.

 _Everything was too perfect_ she mused _We grew so accustomed to our aesthetic lives, too much peace made us restless, life became tedious as we took what we held dear for granted...and did not realise until it was too late..._ She took a sharp intake of breath in frustration, subconsiously touching her small tattoo, just behind her pointed ear, her only link to her Atto and Ammë, who had left these shores long ago in loyalty to their houses and...had left her. Siofra scolded herself as she felt the familiar pang in her chest and sting in her eyes. Over five hundred years had past, yet she still felt abandoned, betrayed even.

 _For by being loyal to their leaders they betrayed their duty to me._ Siofra shook her head, trying to force herself out of this melancholy. _This is what happens when you are late and give me too much time to think, Kyelaeron!_

She craned her neck,gracefully arching her back to look up, unafraid of falling from the ancient oak upon which she perched. Varda's lights were slowly appearing with the growing darkness.

She felt a rush of excitment through her at the thought. The veil of night made hunting all the more thrilling, the newfound shadow being both an ally and enemy, depending on the situation and there were new beasts to prey on, who previously would have hidden away due to discomfort in the blinding silver and gold light.

While Siofra understood the grief the majority of elves, especially her elders, felt at the loss of the trees, she could not deny that she preferred the newfound day and night, light and dark, stars and dusk or dawn.

Yes their world was now flawed, not even the Valar having the ability to restore what was lost, but with imperfection came excitement, new places to explore, constantly changing skies and seasons, nooks and crannies indented in the earth from the dark days after the infamous Flight of the Noldoli.

Everything being consistent and flawless was pretty for a while but then simply became plain boring to her. She loved Aman wild and untamed, like her.

Perhaps Atto and Ammë left out of boredom she thought dryly. I know if I was old enough at the time I probably would have, NOT for love nor duty, but for the prospect of exploring Arda, which I know to be full of peril and darkness and...adventure!

Save for Kyelaeron, who would understand, she would never dare mention these thoughts to ANYONE, not even her dearest family -as she called her fellow hunters and huntresses- and especially not to Oromë. One had to be careful when mentioning the time before the darkness to the Lord of the Hunt, saying the wrong words ability to put the Vala in one of his infamous 'moods' for days, sometimes weeks.

'He was not always like that', Kandāra, one of the eldest Avarin huntresses had told her, 'Not only did he fail along with Tulkas to catch Morgoth after the attack on Formenos, he also lost his most trusted and loved disciple in those dark days'

Kandāra sighed, a lost look in her eyes, 'we all wholeheartedly believed Tyelkormo would choose his father, family and home he had made here over his family by blood. 'We should have realised those damn Fëanorians are loyal and stubborn to a fault when it comes to each other, and Tyelkormo did not have the heart to leave his dear brothers to face 'dread, danger and doom itself' alone. I admire that, I do, but there is a fine line between brave and down right stupid, and I am afraid Tyelkormo crossed it that time'.

Siofra noticed Kandāra was skinning her catch of rabbit a bit too vigorously, burying her emotions in her work.

'Well at least he was loyal to his family, unlike my parents', Siofra replied bitterly.

Kandāra's eyes shifted from the rabbit to Siofra as she gave the young nís a strange look for a brief moment, eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it.

Siofra waited, hoping this would finally be the day she managed to get her parents identity to slip from the mouth of an elda who remembered them.

Kandāra was too sharp to be fooled that easily however. 'Hmmm' she muttered as she shrugged her shoulders, feigning indifference.

Siofra hung her head in disappointment, giving up her façade. Kandāra's brash but exsistent motherly instincts took over and she cupped the young nís' cheek.

 _Little does she know... Ai Valar... How I would love to tell her all she so dearly wishes to know. Alas I cannot, for I see same loyalty and stubborness within her as her father and her mother. If she learns of their fate and the doom should her Atar's mission fail,I know she will follow them to Arda's end...She is so loved among all who dwell in these woods, like her father...Perhaps we are all being selfish, but I know we must never allow her to swear the oath. We lost Tyelkormo. To lose her would be our undoing_.

'Have faith child', Kandāra encouraged. 'I know your Atar and Ammë did not make the decision of leaving you here lightly. They knew you would be safe here,but they could not say the same for their other loved ones who were to venture across the sea'.

Kandāra paused as Siofra's curious eyes begged her for to continue. 'They were both fierce and strong warriors and both had the ability to turn the tide in a battle, have you considered that they may have left you here to protect you? For in the dark days there was much fear and uncertainty, and if we did not fight back, what was to stop Melkor from striking our home again?'.

Kandāra mused _I can at least hope that Siofra's protection was a factor in their decision, although rumours tell me otherwise._

'Kandāra, please, what were their names?'

_You are a chancer child, just like him!_

The elder nís simply shook her head. 'Enough questions!Discussing the entire history of Arda and Aman will not set these traps'. She ran a finger along the string, testing her creation to painlessly capture rabbit. 'Now run along and find that rascal Kyelaeron and tell him I know it was him who laced the edge of the lake with algae and that he will pay for my humiliation in front of the elflings!

_Please let that be enough to distract her from the truth she seeks!_

Siofra's expression did indeed change dramatically as she remembered Kandāra falling head first into the water while instructing the younglings how to construct fishing traps. She laughed and ran off to find her dearest friend. Little did Kandāra know that this prank was hers, and Kyelaeron was completely innocent.

SsSsSsSsSsSsS

'Will I ever find out the truth?' Siofra whispered to the sky.

'I know you can coverse with more creatures than the average nís, but do not tell me you now posess the ability to talk to the air!' a voice behind her sniggered.

Siofra rolled her eyes as she sensed a familiar presence below. She gracefully jumped to the ground, landing in front of a tall, dark ner whose jet black hair was currently sopping wet over his contrasting silver eyes. 'I will be able to talk to the air before you, Kyelaeron are capable of being on time!'. She crossed her arms and gave her dearest friend a stern look, betrayed by the mirth in her eyes.

'It is not my fault I swear!' the ner pleaded, 'there I was,well before the sun was setting, making my way to you, innocently, as always'(Siofra rolled her eyes) 'when out of nowhere I was ambushed by hundreds of elflings!'.

'Kyelaeron you know there are no more than twenty elflings in the woods! Siofra noticed the slight blush to Kyelaeron's face.'Stop trying to exaggerate, it will not heal your wounded ego! Let me guess, these savage, scary elflings are the reason you currently remind me of a drowned rat?'she teased.

'YES!' Kyelaeron continued his rant, 'they hid in the trees and poured buckets upon buckets on my head! And do you know the worst part? I could not say a word to them because, you will never guess...'

'Kandāra led her students in ambush and declared yet another prank war against you?" Siofra answered sweetly. 'She blames you for setting up a prank which resulted in her falling into the lake. It must have been someone else then...' the smug look on her face told Kyelaeron exactly who was the grand architect of the days mishaps.

'Why you scheming little...' Siofra let out a squeal followed by giggles as she was flung upside down over the ner's shoulder. 'You are going to confess to Kandāra AND apologise to me in front of Lord Oromë himself as soon as we take home our catch tonight! Kyelaeron demanded as Siofra thrashed in his arms, still laughing.

'Y-You hh-haa-have n-no p-pro-proof!' she blurted inbetween her cries of mirth, her laughter reaching the stage where she could not stop.

'Fine then' Kyelaeron replied too happily for comfort.

The ner stooped, picked up a feather from the forest floor and lightly rubbed it against his friend's neck,smirking as she both screamed for him to stop and laughed at the tickles the feather provided.

'I give up, I will confess! just stop!' Siofra managed to choke out.

'Sorry what?' Kyelaeron laughed, amused at how ticklish his friend was.

'I WILL CONFESS! I AM SORRY! STOPPPPP!'

Kyelaeron set Siofra down on the forest floor and the two laughed until the humour had left their systems.

'We are now even' Siofra exclaimed as she stood ,giving her hand to Kyelaeron as she pulled him up also. 'Now we better start this hunt or else all of the hunters will want to go to war with us!'

'Hang on' Kyelaeron challenged, 'we are NOT even until you confess to Kandāra in front of Oromë. That was the deal...'

'Yes but think about it my simple friend', Siofra began, 'Oromë and Kandāra like me, which makes my position here much more favourable'. Kyelaeron raised an eyebrow, suspicious at what his friend was plotting. 'No doubt, if I confess to them and admit I am in the wrong, they will still to blame you for it, since you have not yet been forgiven for the hound incident.

Kyelaeron scowled, yet again regretting tying meat scraps to certain elders garments becore letting the hounds loose, thus creating chaos in the camp. 'Fine you win, I do not fancy facing an alliance of you, Kandāra and all those pesky elflings'.

Siofra grinned triumphantly. 'You have more brains than I thought Kyelaeron!'

'Says the one who cannot read' Kyelaeron countered.

'I learn by experience, not by words of other elves I do not know', Siofra kept up the banter.

Kyelaeron flashed another smile 'I am too afraid to argue with you, now come, the evening meal will not catch itself. Siofra grinned, the two friends could feel the thrill of the hunt already pulsing through their veins.

'By all means, Otorno, lead the way'.

SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSssSsSsSsS

Nerdanel the Wise, wife to Fëanaro, mother of the famous, or now infamous seven, technically the Queen of the Noldo, or perhaps Dowager Queen, she was unsure, daughter of Mahtan, Master Smith and herself a Master Sculptress, sat in her workshop in Tirion surrounded by her seven sons.

She ignored them for now, focusing on the piece in front of her as she transformed a block of white marble into a figure so lifelike that from a distance, even the most sharp elven eyes would be fooled into believing they were looking at a real ner.

Her sons were quiet,which she hated because it made it all the more harder to fool herself into believing nothing had changed. She despised the peace and quiet and calm, perfect work conditions which prevented her from escaping reality, because she knew that if her sons were really here her workshop would be a scene of chaos.

Never before in her life was she so productive in her craft, with more time on her hands than ever before, and no daft, frustrating, often pathetic distractions every few minutes, sometimes seconds. She could not believe she was saying it...

-no not saying, thinking, there is no one here to say anything to-

...but she would give anything to have to flee from her chisel as Maitimo burned down the kitchen while making breakfast for the twins.

To unwillingly get pulled away from her hectic day as Makalaurë's breathtaking, golden melodies drifted into her workshop and transported her far away.

Scream in rage at Tyelkormo after Huan knocked over, smashed and marked territory on the piece she had been working on for Turukáno's wedding, threatening the Helcaraxë for the boisterous hound pup.

Rise from her sketches and physically block the entrance as Carnistir's temper got the better him.

Let out a sigh in frustration as she sought after Atarinkë, who although he had his own, insisted on borrowing her tools without returning them.

Move her statues and unfinished pieces to create hiding places for the Ambarussa, as they sought sanctuary with her after pranking one, two or five of their older brothers.

She...she tried with every ounce of willpower in her body...tried with the determination and strength that helped her bring seven elflings into the world...tried with all the grief pain and hate she could muster...

...but in spite of herself, she still missed him, with all her heart...

She wanted to forget him. Hate him. Sometimes kill him for the pain and suffering, death and destuction he had rained down, not only on her, but on so many innocents. For making the boys swear the terrible oath, dooming them...forever.

For taking the innocence and wonder out of the Ambarussa's eyes, Valar for taking the Ambarussa at all. The others were well aware of the consequences of their actions, were of age, well past their majority, able to make their decisions independently ( well she sincerely hoped they did), but Ai Valar Pityo and Telvo were still only elflings in her eyes! Her motherly instincts screamed at her as the dread and worry once again took over.

I must stop, there is nothing I can do...what if there was and I FAILED! What if I had remained with them in Formenos? Or perhaps if I had not spoke my disagreements with Fëanaro about the petty things...like the banishment...and the hatred of the Valar...If I had not antagonised him with those contradictions, opinions, would he have more eagerly listened to my protests about his flight, perhaps if I had been a better wife instead of craftswoman...No I must stop this! It is no ones fault but Melkor's!

Nerdanel, hysteric now, took deep, long breaths, forcing herself to calm down.

It was not her fault and not Feanaro's. Melkor was to blame, there was nothing more she could have done. Nothing would have changed Fëanaro's mind, had she stepped in his way she would have met his sword.

No, Fëanaro her husband, father to her children, the ner she longed for every night and day, the young rebellious and brilliant prince she fell in love with, that Fëanaro did not do those dreadful things.

That Fëanaro was gone and she had every right to mourn him.

He had been changed, turned into a monster by madness and grief. She knew her husband like she knew her own mind. When he loved, he loved so dearly, with so much passion, so much fire that was his soul that, when he had lost his father, his sorrow consumed him, destroyed him. However, he was too stubborn to fade, still had too much to live for, so instead he fed on his anger and rage, obsessing over the reason his father was murdered... the Silmarils...and the rest is history.

The Fëanaro she loved would never have chosen three white gems over his greatest creations.

Their sons, too stubborn to admit that their Atar could be wrong, too loyal to not follow him to the ends of the earth, swore the oath, killed for ships,burned the ships and... that was all she knew. The Valar had withheld any information about the happenings on the hither shores, leaving the relatives of those under the doom in the dark.

How Nerdanel regretted not leaving with her family, or even crossing the Helcaraxë. Full of self loathing she broke down in tears, for all in the name of pride and holiness, she was so, so ,so alone.

She clung to the scuplture she was creating like a lifeline and, for the briefest moment, she was in Fëanaro's arms, their children wrecking havoc around them.

The moment was gone as soon as it came, and Nerdanel sat alone in her workshop in tears, surrounded by eight cold, stone statues.

SSssSSsSSSSSS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thats the first chapter! A bit of mystery, humor and of course angst. (Poor Nerdanel I really wanted to give her a hug there or magically make her family appear and just end the story happy and fluffy!) Next chapter there will be more background info on both Kyelaeron and Siofra and what they already know about their past.
> 
> While I know incest is so,so wrong, I cannot help but ship Celegorm and Aredhel. I feel like they wished to live lives free of rules and restrictions , and both had an inner wildness which made them at home with the hunters of Oromë, where relationships which may have been branded 'scandalous' in the posh city of Tirion, would have been no big deal to the less civilized, more free followers of Oromë. Plus I use the excuse that they are half cousins to trick myself into believing it's Ok!
> 
> There are a few Avarin elves dwelling in Oromë's woods in Valinor in this story. While you may think this defeats the whole purpose of being Avarin, allow me to explain. The Avari who dwell in Valinor are elves who died in Middle Earth, their souls went to Mandos halls, and they were released after a time. They never saw the light of the trees in their first life and now dwell mainly in the woods of Aman, where they feel most at home. Some may have had children in Valinor, who would be labelled to be of Avarin heritage.
> 
> Quenya Translations:
> 
> Anar- the sun
> 
> Siofra- 'shining/gleaming huntress'. I merged the words 'sil' and 'fara' to create this, perhaps not very accurate, but I felt the name 'Siofra' , which in Gaelic translates as 'little elf' fitted my OC.
> 
> Atto- dad/daddy
> 
> Kyelaeron- 'Silver song of the sea'. I merged 'Kyelepe' the primitive Quenya word for silver with 'laer' which means song and 'aeron' the word for sea to create this name. There is an EXTREMELY vague hint to the ner's heritage in his name... wink wink.
> 
> Kandāra- 'wise and bold' -I felt this was fitting for an ancient Avari huntress.
> 
> Nís- female elf
> 
> Ner- male elf
> 
> Aman- Valinor
> 
> Arda- Middle Earth
> 
> Elda- elf
> 
> Otorno- sworn brother
> 
> Atar- father
> 
> Ammë- mother
> 
> Maitimo-Maedhros
> 
> Makalaurë- Maglor
> 
> Tyelkormo- Celegorm
> 
> Carnistir- Caranthir
> 
> Atarinkë- Curufin
> 
> Ambarussa- Amrod and Amras
> 
> Pityo- Amrod
> 
> Telvo- Amras
> 
> Fëanaro- Fëanor
> 
> Let me know what you think- constructive criticism welcome!
> 
> Siofra Marina x


	2. Reflections and Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oromë reflects and regrets his favourite hunter and vows that Tyelkormo's daughter will not share her Atar's Fate.As he and Siofra hunt, Kyelaeron contemplates his heritage and remembers his mother and the stories she told of his father. Mahtan faces his fears and decides to visit his daughter for the first time since the Flight of the Noldor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back. Hope you all enjoyed the story so far. Now for chapter Two...'Reflections and Regrets'.

First Age 505...

The mighty Lord of the Hunt, Oromë rode alongside Vána the Ever-Young, his wife. The couple made their way to Valmar, where they had business to attend to. The Valar were convening in the Máhanaxar, The Ring of Doom, for the first time in many years.

There was much to discuss, problems they could no longer ignore, issues that had been left on the long finger far too long. While it seemed to the elves of Aman that the Valar did not care what happened to their lost kin on the hither shores, the truth was quite the contrary.

By hiding Valinor, the Valar could no longer travel to Arda, save Ulmo and his Maiar such as Uinen and Ossë, whose domain was not restricted by land boundaries. They also had such knowledge of the sea that even powerful Vala magic could not make them lose their way.

Yes Valar were angered, enraged even. Fëanaro's arrogance had resulted in sorrow being spread all over the world.

However, they did not forget who was truly to blame; Melkor. For it was him who sewed the seeds of doubt and greed into the minds of the Noldor, who deceived them all, betrayed them and... destroyed the trees...A loss which had much more of a devastating impact on the Valar than it had on any of the firstborn.

It had weakened them temporarily, so much so that Melkor was able to escape.

The Valar still loved the children of Ílúvatar, but for now, there was nothing they could do to help those on Arda.

They could stop hiding Valinor, allowing Tulkas and Oromë to resume their chase on Melkor. But they knew what Melkor was capable of.

Yes Oromë and Tulkas combined would be powerful enough to defeat Melkor. But Melkor would know if they were coming for him. He would know he was not powerful enough to survive this fight. Therefore, in one last act of hatred, he would destroy all of Arda, including the Eldar who dwelt there.

Melkor was holding the firstborn hostage as he cowered from danger in his dark underground fortresses.

The only bright side to this situation for the Valar was the fact that Melkor was afraid. He never lashed out with all his forces, all his potential, for fear of the possabilility of defeat, of losing it all.

If Melkor did lash out in full force, destroying all elven life on Arda, there would be nothing stopping all of the Valar from destroying him for good.

Therefore, Melkor could only cause so much destruction and suffering to the Eldar at a time, not enough to obliterate them, but enough to cause misery to them and to the Valar.

For the Valar felt guilty also.

How had Melkor deceived them? All of them. They were such fools! How did the filthy lies he spread pass unheeded?

Manwë blamed himself for allowing his compassion towards his brother blind him.

Yavanna felt that she had pushed Fëanaro over the edge when she asked him to surrender the Silmarils to recreate the trees, an act that would kill the gems' maker.

Irmo often wondered had he been able to save Mìriel would there have been less bitterness and division between the Crown prince of the Noldor and his half-brothers, thus perhaps preventing Feanaro's exile to isolated Formenos, where the gems were vunerable. Then again,if Mìriel had lived the majority of the house would not exsist.

Ulmo wished he had been present at Alqualondë, not at the Helcaraxë, unsucessfully pounding the ice in the hope it would break under Melkor and Ungoliant. He wished he was in the Telerin city, ready to send a tsunami straight at the host of the Noldoli before violence ensued.

Tulkas the strong could not forgive himself for being so weak at the time he was needed most. He hated how the death of the trees had affected him so much that he could not catch the dark Vala.

However, out of all the Valar, Oromë felt the most guilt

He had the same regrets as Tulkas, he knew he should have been strong enough to defeat Morgoth that fateful day. He had the same regrets as Ulmo, instead of fruitlessly chasing Melkor he could have been at Alqualondë, the city could still be bustling and lively instead of a memorial shrine. But Oromë had another regret, a regret that outweighed his others by a ton.

He regretted Tyelkormo.

The wild and free ner he knew was gone. The resemblance to himself in his youth which he admired was gone. Any morals or goodwill of a hunter Oromë had taught him were gone. The young, afraid but deeply loving father, defying societies standards and expectations was gone. Tyelkormo the fair is gone. Celegorm the cruel destroyed him.

All that was left was Tyelkormo's outstanding warrior skills(Oromë winced as he recalled the abuse of hunters knowledge by Celegorm, who used his gifts and abilities to end lives) accompanied by a wildness that had turned feral, a will to destroy Morgoth out of hatred, not to save lives. A mission to reclaim the Silmarils out of desire to save himself, his father and his brothers, not caring that if by doing so they destroyed the lives of others.

He swapped his love of Írissë for lust of Luthien after the two became estranged, this being the final straw for Huan. It was then that Oromë knew that there was no redemption for Celegorm. Huan would never have left Tyelkormo. He would not have left Celegorm either had he believed there was still good, however minuscule in his master. There obviously was not.

Tyelkormo was the closest thing Oromë had to a son, always so eager to learn about the wild beasts and untamed forest, so bored when trapped within a city, chained by the social expectations of a Prince. Many believed Oromë was hurt by Tyelkormo forsaking the woods of Aman for Middle Earth. That was not true, for Oromë knew Tyelkormo longed to see the adventurous lands the Vala told him of in his tales. Oromë was hurt because the son he knew and loved was dead.

_It breaks my heart, for each time look at Siofra, I see Tyelkormo..._

Oromë knew he had to protect her, to shield her, shelter her from the truth. _It is what the Tyelkormo I knew would want... He would not want her bound by any oath or allegiance or duty. He would not want her to suffer the prejudice and mistrust that would follow her everywhere if her identity was known to any outside of the hunters. He would want her to be here, happy and safe, in the forest. Where she belongs._

Oromë would do all that was in his power to prevent Siofra from finding out the truth. He would not make the same mistake he made with Tyelkormo.

He allowed himself to believe that his best hunter's soul could not be tainted by darkness, greed or desire for revenge. He thought Tyelkormo was smarter than the ner who swore the oath alongside his brothers. He believed Tyelkormo would never leave his dear little Siofra behind. He had put too much faith and trust in Tyelkormo, thinking foolishly he was able to tame the wild and raging fire within the son of Fëanaro.

He would not make the same mistake with Siofra.

'Your mind is far away, in a different time and place, my love' Vána stated, nudging Oromë out of his ponderings. His spouse could read his mind from his expression all too well. 'You believe he is truly gone, but have faith, I believe he can change back to fair again as swiftly as he transformed to cruel.'

Oromë shook his head. 'His only loyalties lie to himself and his brothers, he trusts no one else, only family. I fear his father's misconceptions about us finally got through to Tyelkormo'.

'There is another way, a relative untouched by the darkness, as dear to him as his brothers...' Vána began hesitantly.

'No' Oromë stated firmly. ' I cannot risk her knowing who she is. She will cross the Helcaraxë if she finds out about the oath and the dark fate of her kin should they fail to reclaim the Silmarils, I know it for sure. Do not think for a minute that the bitter cold, frostbite or the possibility of death will stop her. She will leave in hope of finding the father she lost, only to find he is gone. Her heart will break, and she will descend into a grief that may well consume her. She could end up just like him. I will not risk her life and goodwill in a foolish attempt to save a lost cause.'

'She will not be alone. Kyelaeron will follow her, you know this. He will anchor her emotions, be there to help her through the challenges she may face' Vána argued.

'And should Kyelaeron run into his father, who he is the spitting image of, imagine the uproar. The lovechild of an Avari dancer and a Noldo Lord, arriving into court with the leathers and mannerisms of a wild hunter! The Fëanorians may accept Siofra, for scandalous is nothing to them anymore, but opulent Gondolin is not the same as harsh Amon Ereb!

Vána raised an eyebrow, never before had her husband let slip Kyelaeron's heritage to anyone.

Oromë sighed; he should not have revealed such a secret in anger, even to his wife.

'Yes it is true, the rumors you heard many yeni ago. The heir that was exiled by his pious grandfather because of his wild Avarin heritage. The pregnant nís who was blackmailed with her childs life into the woods, forced to keep her son's exsistance a secret, even from her true lover, the babe's father! Imagine how outrageous that sounds to a ner like Kyelaeron who has been raised in my woods! His father never knew about him simply because his mother descended from elves who once dwelt outside of the Blessed Lands!'

Vána looked saddened to hear this news. Kyelaeron did not deserve to live without family because of the extreme beliefs of one ner. Orome continued;

'There are ridiculous rules and protocols in court Siofra and Kyelaeron will not be able to comprehend. So much nonsense! Gossip and rejection can break an elf as easily as a sword. Politics and etiquette are foreign concepts to them. Should Kyelaeron and Siofra's expectations be shattered by reality, I fear what they may become, considering their training and skills.'

'You underestimate their strength and resilience. Besides, Kyelaeron will not be able to find his Atar'

'It would be foolish to assume that not a soul outside of the hidden city knows its location. If one is truly desperate and knows the right people to ask, there is a way.'

Vána exhaled sharply. She would not get anywhere by arguing with her husband today. 'Enough of this matter, we shall agree to differ, now come or we will be late for the counsel'. She urged her steed into a trot.

Oromë paused, briefly lost in nostalgia, then urged Nahar to follow his beloved.

The two entered the city, making their way through the crowds of Vanyar lined out to greet the Lords and Ladies of the Ainur.

sSsSsSsSsSSsSSsSsSsSs

Kyelaeron stalked, silent as a leaf in the wind, through the forest greenery, tracking his prey. A bird call from above- to his left, informed him that Aranya (or Siofra as she was more commonly known) was in position. Kyelaeron was one of the few who used the young nis's mother name (sometimes shortened to 'Anya') rather than her father name. As a matter of fact, he was not sure if many even knew her to be Aranya and, if so, most did not bother to use it, including Siofra Aranya herself.

_While she is 'Siofra', the shining huntress in every way, I think I prefer 'Aranya', for never have I seen a spirit so free, and us hunters are an unchained people._

Kyelaeron himself did not have a father name, having never known his sire. He retained old memories of his mother however. She was Avarin, which explained his light brown skin and dark hair. From these details, he was able to work out that his father was not Avarin, for although his skin was dark it was still much lighter than any of the other Moriquendi he knew.

Also he had his bright, silver eyes - 'enchanting', Aranya would gasp and fake swoon as she impersonated her ideal 'Noble' lady, mocking his unique orbs that even he could not deny were quite aesthetic -which were very Noldo and very un-Avarin.

Thus he concluded, with these facts, he was of mixed heritage, Noldo and Avarin, as if it were not obvious to the naked eye already. Kyelaeron frowned, rolling his eyes to the heavens, he had absolutely nothing else to link him to his past.

Of course he had asked the older hunters and huntresses, even Oromë himself, but they knew nothing and, unlike Aranya, whose heritage they obviously knew but tried to hide for reasons Kyelaeron could not even imagine, the ner believed when it came to his parents, his elders were telling the truth. He honestly did not know what was worse; to have the answers right in front of you, locked away in the memories of others unwilling to share, or to have absolutely no idea or source to ones heritage at all.

While his and Aranya's respective family dilemmas were different, they were also quite similar. Both had been raised, without parents for the most part, in these woods. Both had vague memories of their parents- Kyelaeron recalled his Ammë singing him a lullaby about water or something, while he piped along, out of tune, on the small reed flute she had fashioned him.

He remembered his Ammë telling him about his Atar, how she painted him in his mind as the strongest warrior, the noblest Lord, the most handsome ner in all the land, the best dancer and musician, even better than Kanafinwë Makalaurë apparently.

_Maybe it was me who imagined him so, or perhaps my Amme was down right insane...or in love...maybe?_

Kyelaeron grew more and more doubtful and skeptic about how 'amazing' of a ner his father was each passing day. If he was everything his mother made him out to be, why had he never visited?Why had he never named his son. Does he even know I exist, did my mother keep me a secret for some reason?

He recalled lazy afternoons in the golden light of Laurelin, the days when it was just the two of them living off the land.

He could still see, clear as day the fear in his mothers eyes as the skies turned dark. She left him on Oromë's doorstep, literally, hugged him tightly, pressing her necklace and pendant into his palm, stared piercingly deep into his face as if to memorise every detail, then vanished into the night.

Kyelaeron never saw her again.

Aranya told him she remembered both her Atto and Ammë visiting her, sometimes together but more often than not alone. The visits became less and less frequent,until the darkening,when she learned they were gone across the sea, for good, according to Lord Námo's doom.

Her Ammë taught her archery, and how to sew, which he had to admit was a useful skill that Aranya had in turn taught him, after she became fed up with stiching his hunting gear when it needed repair and his game before he cooked it.

Aranya had told him about her Atar also, who she remembered more clearly. He had the same curly, flowing blond hair as her, same gleaming emerald eyes and apparently it was him who passed on the gift of conversing with animals to Aranya.

She also mentioned racing through the forest on the back of a huge hound as her father ran through the trees barefoot and shirtless, laughing, hair flying free in the wind as he tried unsucessfully to outrun them.

_He must have been a fine hunter if he had the ability to speak to animals, the only other apart from Aranya who was known to have had this gift was Tyelkormo..._

Kyelaeron's inner monologues came to a halt abruptly as the wild boar they had been tracking appeared within his line of sight. He made eye contact with Aranya, using hand signals to decipher what she saw from her vantage point in the trees.

 _'There are three rabbits within a two metre radius of the boar.'_ Aranya reported.

 _'Ah he is on a hunt too I see',_ Kyelaeron replied, _'To your right there are two squirrels'._

 _'Arrows?'_ his friend suggested. Kyelaeron nodded _'On three... one..._ two bowstrings were pulled taut, arrows notched _...two..._ the archers took aim, calculating each move ahead... _THREE!_

A blur of arrows whizzed around the forest glade. The smaller prey did not even realise that they were shot before they were dead.

The boar was not so easily defeated though. He had sensed the incoming danger and artfully dodged the three arrows fired within split seconds of each other.

Kyelaeron cursed as the beast shook his tusks and pawed the ground in rage, facing his direction. They had lost the advantage of ignorance from the prey.

Now came the hard part. Not only did the hunters have to kill the beast, a feat on its own that would have been easy to any elf with half decent weaponry skill, but they had to kill it cleanly, preferably in a single blow, causing as little pain as possible.

This was commonplace to the followers of Oromë. While they partook in killing animals as a sport, they had strict morals as to how they killed and when.

Every day a team of hunters were assigned to hunt down and kill prey to feed the population of elves in the woods. They had a quota of kills they could not exceed, unless in self defense, doing so resulting in possible banishment from the forest. The same could be said for anyone who killed when it was not their turn to supply food.

The hunters could still train, spar, track and capture and release animals, feats which prepared them for the wild woods and helped to improve their skill.

In their downtime, they socialised with their fellow peers and neighbors, often around a campfire with music and dancing. Some, like Kandāra, passed time by teaching the elflings, the childrens' eyes wide as they witnessed a hunt return, or warriors sparring. Some took leave of their home for a time and explored the wilds and cities of Aman.

Or if a hunter wished to broaden their horizons in terms of knowledge they could avail of the library within Oromë's halls, which held many scrolls and manuscripts on anatomy of species, botany and the uses of herb lore, foraging and what weaponry to use for which beast, to name a few.

Said library was proving its usefulness now, as Kyelaeron remembered the information he read about the wild pig. Its weak spots were the side of the head,underbelly and most importantly, the top of the fore leg, the location of the heart, now the only way to kill the beast according to the hunters' 'law'. Unless shot in the eye, an arrow would not be sufficient to kill, the beast's tough skin beneath its prickly hairs acting as armour.

Arrows had failed, now for plan B. Kyelaeron braced himself for impact as the boar lunged for him. As fast as lightning, Kyelaeron had driven the tusks deep into the earth He drew his sword, his weapon of choice, (unusual for a hunter-most choosing spears and knives)and plunged it into the heart, killing their prey swiftly.

He sighed, relieved the hunt had ended well, with no misfortune or injuries.

Suddenly, Aranya screamed.

**'ANGO! ALA!'**

Knowing that the serpent was deadly if it caused his friend such distress, Kyelaeron froze, keeping a level head. It was all up to Aranya to strike, as any sudden movements from Kyelaeron would be enough to antagonise the snake into attacking him.

Aranya seemed to drop to the ground in slow motion, with true aim and skill as she speared the poisonous ango with one swift thrust. Her eyes scanned the surroundings for further threats. Once satisfied the area was clear she turned to face her friend, an all too familiar look on her face.

Kyelaeron sighed again, this time in defeat. Danger did have a way of following him wherever he went. No matter how careful he was something always happened each time he hunted with Aranya. Perhaps it was because the two combined were a little overambitious, hunting in the most dangerous parts of the forest at the deadliest time of day;night. This alone guaranteed run-ins with magnificent catches of beasts and close calls with Lord Námo.

'You do realise that is the _tenth_ time I have saved your skin this week Kyelaeron!' Aranya's voice was mocking anger but he could see the worry in those bright green eyes.

 _'Ninth'_ he emphasised back.'Almost drowning in that pond does not count, as I was saving your life from the bear!'

'I had it under control! You were already injured after killing the other two! there was no need to be reckless!'

'I was not hallucinating when I saw you struggling to hold back the bear's jaws open as they tried to close on your HEAD!'

Aranya glared, annoyed. Kyelaeron smirked. He was right, but Aranya did not like to admit she needed his help. Not out of pride as it may have seemed to a stranger, but because she feared someone getting hurt or dying to save her. Especially Kyelaeron. She did not know what she would do without him. He was her family, her otorno.

Kyelaeron knew these thoughts plagued Aranya as she continued her moody glare. His smirk softened into a reassuring smile and he closed the space between them, pulling his osellë into a strong embrace.

'I will never leave you Aranya.' _For that is what scares you, being left alone again._

'That will not be so easy to promise when you are in front of Lord Námo as a result of something absolutely ridiculous and foolish!'

'I'd like to see him try to stop me.'

'That is what they all say'

'True but the difference with me is I fear _your_ wrath when I am released more than Lord Námo's '

Aranya laughed 'And rightly so! because if you die on me Kyelaeron, I will _kill_ you again myself once you return! Are we clear?'

Kyelaeron chuckled 'Do not worry about me. Also, technically you only saved my life once this week because the eight times I saved yours cancel the others out!'

Aranya's expression darkened yet again, 'did you not hear a WORD I just said?'

'You're welcome' Kyelaeron replied cheerily, struggling keep a straight face. 'Now come, this boar will not carry itself to camp!'

The ner finally beamed wide, flashing his pearly white teeth as they hoisted their catch back to camp, Aranya mumbling and ranting to herself behind him.

sSsSsSsssSssSssssSsSsS

Mahtan Aulendur Urundil , master smith, strolled through the streets of Tirion troubled.

_It has been far too long since I last visited this place, last saw... her... and yet I want nothing more than to turn and run, back to the comfort and distraction of the forge._

The last thing in the whole world Mahtan wished to do was visit his daughter.

He loved Nerdanel, dearly, with all his brusque heart. She was his daughter and she had always been his precious little girl.

She was the only family he had left.

Yet Mahtan did not want to visit. He did not want to visit because the rest of his family would not be there.

Though Mahtan was gruff and blunt and strong, deep down he had a heart of gold, which was breaking a little each passing day as the new reality sank in.

Mahtan felt that if he witnessed the lost grief in his daughter's emerald eyes one more time, his heart would shatter to pieces.

When his wife passed, Mahtan nearly faded himself, only his daughter having the ability to pull him back. He always knew Nerdanel was strong, but Valar, the fact that she had not even came close to giving in to the peace and ignorance Lord Námo's halls could offer was a miracle and a testament to her will, as strong as her fallen husband's, perhaps stronger.

Because unlike Mahtan, Nerdanel had no-one to be there for her in her hour of need.

Guilt, shame and regret knawed at Mahtan's fëa. How could he have done this to his own daughter? He knew no one else would visit.

Almost every family in the Noldo dominated Tirion had lost someone to the doom, families divided by their allegiance to the houses of Fëanaro and Nolofinwë versus their allegiance to the Valar.

Those loyal to Fëanaro, who would have in turn been loyal to Nerdanel, were gone across the sea. Those who remained were too buried in their own grief to bother checking in on the bereaved wife and mother. None knew her well enough. She did not have many friends, especially in these dark times.

In her youth, Nerdanel was not one to spend her days socialising and gossiping with friends, unlike many other níssi and was content to occupy herself with her craft, helping in the forge and then travelling with Fëanaro, after they announced their courtship. She became a mother young, always kept on her toes as her family grew and grew.

Nerdanel never saw the need to make friends. She had a large family she loved, a craft and enough social events to keep life interesting. Such events included the rare times the Crown Prince, Princess and their children actually attended court celebrations in the palace, or visited other cities such as Valmar and Al...Alqualondë.

Mahtan closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. His grandsons would be haunted their whole immortal lives for the deeds they had done, forever chased by the oath. His stomach retched, how the carefree, boisterous and very un-princely neri he loved were capable of such a thing he did not know. He had trouble believing it.

_I know deep down in my fëa they will all meet terrible ends. I fear that it will not be at the hands of dark creatures, of orcs, balrogs or Morgoth himself...It will be at the hands of elves and their deaths will be seen as justice for all the suffering their oath caused._

Mahtan often wondered what would have happened had just one of Fëanor's sons stood up to their father and recognised the madness in his eyes, would they all have come to their senses? _Would they have sold their souls to the everlasting darkness if they had simply stopped for a minute and took a breath? If they had not been so reckless?_

_I thought my suffering ended once we reached the shores of Aman after Cuiviénen. How wrong I was. I miss them all so much, despite their sins. They were young neri, mislead. Ai Feanaro! I saw you as my son, my star pupil. Never did I think such brilliance could result in such madness!_

Mahtan knew that with or without him Fëanaro would have been a smith, yet he still blamed himself for Fëanaro's obsession with the Silmarils.

_If not for my tutelage, would he have created them?_

_Then again, if he had not been my apprentice, he may not have met Nerdanel and my grandchildren may not have been born._

_I think there is many who would wish that, but not me...I loved those boys._

Mahtan knew what he had to do. With a heavy heart, he rounded a corner, passing an alleyway that once buzzed with the life and laughter of his grandsons.

One step at a time on the cobbled streets of the artisans quarter, Mahtan made his way to his daughter.

SsSssSsSSssSSsSSssssSssSss

After the counsel, The Lord of the Hunt was spotted storming out of the Màhanaxar without his lady, leaping onto Nahar and racing through the wilds in rage at the counsels stupid decision...

Oromë's worst fear had come to pass.

SsSssssSSsSSsSSsSssSsSSsSs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alot of monologues here I know! I hope they were not boring to read. I must say I enjoyed writing the memories, especially Celegorm as a dad! He is definitely one of them dads who acts more like a child than the actual child! Also I'd say he is very lax on discipline!
> 
> We have a lot more info now on Kyelaeron's father, feel free to play guess who as it may be a while before I confirm it in the story. I put way too many little clues and parallels in this chapter but it was just too fun not to do!
> 
> Bit of foresight at the end from Mahtan about how his grandchildren will end up if no one stops them. *cough*.Hint. Wink
> 
> Quenya Translations:
> 
> Aranya- Siofra's mother name , translates to 'free', I'm guessing that is what Aredhel would have wanted her daughter to be.
> 
> Máhanaxar- Ring of Doom
> 
> Nís- Female elf
> 
> Níssi- Female elves
> 
> ner- Male elf
> 
> neri- Male elves
> 
> Atar- Father
> 
> Ammë- Mother
> 
> Ango- Snake
> 
> Ala- Behind
> 
> Otorno- Sworn brother
> 
> Osellë- Sworn sister
> 
> Aulendur- 'Servant of Aulë' -Title given to Mahtan
> 
> Urundil- 'Copper-lover' - Title given to Mahtan.
> 
> Thanks to anyone who reviewed! Next chapter coming soon ;)


	3. Fading, Fury and Feasts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunters celebrate another happy day in the woods. Oromë however kills the atmosphere with his mood and Siofra and Kyelaeron decide to investigate what has their Lord so bitter. Mahtan faces a life-death situation in Nerdanel's workshop;

First Age- 505...

A warm starry night ensued after Siofra and Kyelaeron returned with their catch. A fire was lit in the glade outside Oromë's Halls, where most gathered for the evening meal. The elflings were tasked with preparing the meat, all too eager to perform what the adults saw as tedious work.

Siofra closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. How she loved the green, cool smell of summer nights. A sweet, silver song lively danced its way into her ears. She did not need to see to know who was playing. Kyelaeron was unmatched in the woods for his ability in music, especially the flute. It was an evening ritual for him to play, in fact his music was so popular that he was never allowed to cook, as doing so would mean no flute that particular night.

Siofra allowed herself a moment longer of basking in the serenity of the peaceful forest, then opened her wild eyes. Instantly she was hit with the luminous glow of the flames, the smell of delicious meats cooking, dancing elves full of joy and mirth, the giggles of lovers as they not-so-discreetly dashed for the cover of the woods, the laughter of the elflings as they listened to stories of Arda from an ancient cuiviénen ner,...

 _While adventure and new lands excite me, this is home, this is where I truly belong...there is no finer place to be_ , she mused.

And PANG! There was the pain in her chest again as she once more was reminded that _he_ and _she_ obviously had better places to be than here.

_Must every happy moment be tainted by the fact I was abandoned here? Valar I sound ungrateful! I love it here, my family is here, this is my HOME. Yet I cannot forget them! Why? Should I even mourn them...I..._

'Did you kill the boar by scowling at him like that?' a familiar voice teased behind her. Siofra recognised the mirthful tone of Tyeliër, one of her close friends. She kept up the charade, scowling even more until she was glaring. Tyeliër mimicked fear in his expression, suddenly turning left as if to flee.

However as he turned he bumped into a nís carrying two glasses of wine, knocking her to the ground resulting in a mess, two eldar heaped on the forest floor, and a _very_ unhappy nís.

Siofra stared in disbelief at the scene for a brief moment, before bursting into hearty laughter. She was joined by the ner and eventually by the nís, Mára, another friend .

'Arent you lucky Mára, to court a ner as graceful as a swan', Siofra jibed.

'No need to rub salt to the wound Siofra we all know Mára cannot help the fact she is tipsy, she is just a little too fond of her drink' Tyeliër replied.

Tyeliër promptly recieved a not-too-soft smack on the back of the head. 'OUCH'!What was that for?'

'Oh there is a long list of reasons meldo, knocking me over because you are drunk, then blaming me, accusing me of being drunk, and earlier today when you said there was rare foxes in that cave, only to proceed to strip...

'I AM SORRY ... I see what you are saying! No need to continue!' The two nissi exchanged glances at each other, humoured at how jumpy the Tirion born ner became when his...private life was discussed. Such matters could cause great embarrassment to the elves who were not natives in the woods, while elves such as Siofra and Mára, who were raised here, would not bat an eyelid.

Of course the two níssi used this to their advantage when their ever-mischievious friend mocked them non-stop.

_... They have yet again used my upbringing against me! Tyeliër realised. Ai! No matter how long I dwell here I cannot shake certain morals bred into me! Ha, to think that at home I am considered wild and reckless and rude, but in these woods I am humble, polite, almost too conscious of my mannerisms._

_...Well perhaps it is time I changed that..._

Seeing that the damage had been done and that Siofra would not be letting him live this down for a while, Tyeliër decided to have the last word.

'I am going to Kyelaeron, he will not be so rude and uncivilised! The ner imitated a noble, disgusted at such 'scandalous talk'.

As he passed Mára, Tyeliër leaned down and gently whispered in her ear...

'Do not say you did not enjoy it while it lasted'.

He quickly walked away, as his lover smirked and twitched her eyebrows. The two níssi burst into laughter

SssSsSSsSsSssSsSsssSsSsssSssSsSSS

Mahtan was scared of what he might find before he entered his daughter's residence. But what he found terrified him.

As he walked through the empty halls to Nerdanel's studio, he could not help but notice that there was no seven blocking his way, no mingle of voices in competition with each other to greet their Grandfather. He could already feel his eyes begin to sting.

In the all too quiet house it was impossible to not hear the muffled sobs coming from the workshop.

His paternal side defeated his fear, and Mahtan rushed towards the cries.

As he entered the workshop, to his relief he saw his child physically unharmed, but very much emotionally and mentally hurt.

She had pulled one of her works into an embrace, and she cried and cried and cried, begging the statue come back.

It was Fëanaro.

Suddenly aware of his surroundings, Mahtan gazed around the room and found the seven boys he missed so dearly.

She had crafted them perfect. So much so it took Mahtan's breath away.

The exact way Nelyo's unruly hair fell, his patient look as tried to keep peace between his brothers and his cousins and his father and uncle.

The look of intense concentration on Kano's face as he performed his latest masterpiece.

The smirk on Tyelko's face as he returned with a fine catch ( sometimes prey from a hunt, sometimes a nís, sometimes both) with Huan wagging his tail by his side as always.

The way Moryo's expression lit up with joy the rare times he truly smiled, usually after solving a mathematical problem deemed impossible, or as a result of one of the Ambarussa's pranks backfiring.

The triumph in Curvo's eyes as he effortlessly outsmarted an elder with his tongue, rendering them speechless, a trait that exasperated his parents and siblings when aimed at them, but also placed immense pride in his father's eyes, escpecially when the recipient was anyone from the line of Indis, and in particular Nolofinwë.

And of course, Telvo an Pityo, together as always as one statue as they laughed at their siblings, the nobles, their older, more pompous relatives or even themselves. She had even managed to capture the intricate slight differences between the two, only noticeable to one who had truly known them.

Mahtan spied two other statues, a little girl and a young ner, but did not pass too much heed towards them, his attention returning to the stone his daughter clung to.

Mahtan could tell that the Fëanaro she carved was the old Fëanaro, for he could see the curiosity in his eyes, the eagerness to learn, but not possessiveness or greed. The fire and passion were there yes, but not consuming him. He could see the slight uncertainity of youth in him, the sort of nervousness that he displayed the day he asked Mahtan for Nerdanel's hand, even though it was clear from the slight swell on his daughter's stomach that they were _already bound_ to one another.

The fear that gnawed Fëanaro each time one of his children came into the world, fearing his mother's fate for his true love, and the unmatched love that followed after, when it was clear that mother and baby were safe.

Mahtan shook his head in attempt to rouse himself from the past. What mattered was what he had left now, she needed him like never before.

She had not noticed him standing behind her.

Mahtan made an attempt to call her name, however it came out as a silent rasp.

Putting in effort, he tried again 'Nerdanel'. Still no response. He gently walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. 'Nerdanel'.

The repsonse was instant. Nerdanel jumped and suddenly froze, as a doe in tiger's eyes. She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, as if deciphering if her was truly there. Mahtan winced, had he been absent from her life for so long that now she thought him a hallucination?

Both stared at each other in silence for what seemed like hours, but was probably but a few mere seconds

Nerdanel broke the silence.

'A..Atar' she croaked, her voice unstable after her numerous tears. 'You're really here'.

Mahtan could not keep his composure anymore.

It was now him who sobbed 'I am so so sorry child. I let grief consume me, and I locked myself away from where I should have been. I should have been here with you, when you needed me most. I am a pathetic excuse for a father.. I...'

Nerdanel flung herself so desperately into his embrace that Mahtan thought momentarily she was still an elfling. She silenced his despair as she began her crying again. Both collapsed to their knees, their long overdue mourning beginning.

They stayed there for hours, until Nerdanel had no tears left to cry.

Mahtan soothed her, stroking her hair, gently kissing her freckled forehead.

Then suddenly, to his terror, he felt her weaken in his arms.

SSsSsSSsSsSsSssSsSssSsSs

Outside Oromë's halls, the hunters danced in the light of Tilion, one of their own, as jigs and reels flew out of Kyelaeron's flute. Siofra twirled around the clearing, dizzy from both the lively dance and the wine. She dropped down next to Kyelaeron as he finished his playing for the night and the two sat in companionable silence, content in each others company.

He came like a gust of gael force wind, an angry bolt of lightning before thunder, moving with the power and sheer rage only a Vala could possess. Oromë stormed into is home, promptly slamming the door before anyone could greet him.

The joyful atmosphere was suddenly dead.

Glancing at each other, Siofra and Kyelaeron silently agreed to go inside to discover what had put their Lord in such a mood. Out of all the hunters, the two were closest to Oromë, having been practically raised by him and Vána.

They had developed very useful skills in how to cheer up a melancholic, brooding Vala in that time, and Vána could not thank them enough.

Walking silently through the dark, majestic corridor, Siofra and Kyelaeron found the Lord of the Hunt staring out at the sky from a balcony on the third floor. There was a breathtaking view of the forest, however it was clear the Vala was looking upon it with unseeing eyes.

'Did my theatrics not make it clear I wish to be undisturbed?' Oromë's voice boomed across the room, a sound which may have put awe and terror into the heart of any eldar less acquainted with him.

Kyelaeron cleared his throat, 'So I assume your meeting did not go well. What was it this time? Are Manwë and Varda quarreling over who has the most Vanyar licking their arse? Was Tulkas being a little too transparent with what him and Nessa plan to get up to in the bedroom after the counsel? Or was it Nienna's constant crying yet again, along with the fact that Ulmo was not there to share the boredom simply because he could not be arsed?'

Kyelaeron's rowdy words did indeed create a brief grin on Oromë's face. But all too soon it was gone again.

'You have spent too much time in my company son, you know my fellow Valar better than I do myself.' Oromë replied.

'Please Oromë, what bothers you so? A problem shared is a problem halved' Siofra replied.' And there are three of us, so therefore it will be quartered!'

'Anya I am pretty sure you mean thirds not quarters?' Kyelaeron could not help but smirk at his friends awful academic intelligence. 'Were you raised in the wild or something?'

Siofra was NOT impressed with Kyelaerons sarcasm shot him a fierce glare, and Oromë swore he could momentarily see fire in her eyes. 'I am smart enough to not walk head first into a hornets nest, Otorno.'

She turned to face Oromë, her signature smirk- her Atar's smirk- returning as Kyelaeron raked his had through his hair in exasperation, no doubt wishing he had not antagonised her in the first place.

Siofra, satisfied, went on, 'But let us not change the subject. Care to tell us why the wonderful atmosphere that was outside in the glade mere minutes ago is now gone Oromë? I bet it was the Ulmo absenteeism yet again that pushed you over the edge.'

The Lord of the Hunt inhaled sharply. He slowly began to speak. 'Actually even Ulmo was present at this counsel. We dealt with many issues, problems we should have dealt with long ago.

Things were going fine, we were making progress with our new plans for the future when the final issue to discuss arose. Unlike everything else we had agreed upon, with little rejection, this last problem called for a vote as it almost caused an uproar from the both sides of the argument.

He paused momentarily, almost as if to see if his two young charges would accept this as enough of an explanation. Their eyes however, sternly fixed on him and urged him to continue, and so he did.

'This issue concerned the people of my woods. It would put some in unnecessary danger. I strongly disagreed and was backed up by half of the other Vala. In the end it was a tie, and as you know when both sides of a Valar dispute are even, Manwë has the final say. Needless to say he was against my argument.'

The Lord's fists clenched suddenly. He continued 'But the worst part was, my side would have won if it wasn't for my back-stabbing, two-faced, thorn in the side _wife_ voting against me!'

Siofra and Kyelaeron could do nothing but look on disapprovingly as Oromë proceeded to punch a hole in the wall in his anger.

'Oromë!' Siofra exclaimed. 'That was not a very curteous or chivalrous thing to say about your lady now was it?' Poor Vána, he will have a grudge against her for a while now.

'Hmmmph' was all the Lord replied.

A stern Fëanorian glare from Siofra forced him to explain such offence to Lady Vána.

'I do not mind her having different opinions to me and of course she is free to vote what she wishes, usually I would not bat an eyelid, but what annoys me is the fact that she knows how dear this issue is to my heart and yet she still went against me!'

Kyelaeron piped up, 'What exactly did you disagree on? You said it involved us hunters.'

'Indeed it does' Oromë winced. 'In the Years of the Trees, every hundred years Tirion hosted The Aráto Games, a competition between the Hunters of Oromë and the Warriors of Tulkas.

You were only allowed to compete if you had not taken part in the Games before, therefore winning was a once in a lifetime opportunity and achievement. It comprised a serious of tests, races, challenges and athletic feats, the contestants facing knock out until two from the warriors and two from the hunters remained.

The two teams, warriors versus hunters would then compete in a final challenge, a course specially designed to test skill and ones ability to use it in unpredictable circumstances. The first team to successfully complete the challenge would be crowned champions.

The reward, in those days was magnificent. The victors attended celebrations in their name for a week. There were balls and feasts and finery. Artisans would craft their finest works in the hope of seeing their art worn by or recognised by a champion. Bards and minstrels would write ballads of the heroic accomplishment. The conclusion to the festivities was a celebration tour of Aman, which included much of the cities and each of the dwellings of the Valar.'

Oromë paused as he noticed the two pairs of gleaming eyes that were staring at him in fascination. It did not take his Vala magic to know they were already imagining themselves as the glorious crowned champions.

_That is exactly what I do not want. The remaining house of Finwë still dwells in Tirion, not to mention the champions tour includes Vairë's tapestries! Ai give me strength!_

'What does this have to do with the problem at hand Oromë? Why does it distress you so?' Kyelaeron questioned.

Oromë turned his back to the two, looking again out at the trees and starlight. Eventually the answer escaped his lips.

'Because it has been decided that The Aráto games will recommence in a months time. We leave for Tirion in a fortnight.'

SsSsSsSsSsSSssSsSsSsSsSsS

Deep panaic set Mahtan into action. He could not process the facts in front of him. _She is fading, her grief is too strong, Ai Varda! Manwë! Aulë! how do I stop this! How do I give her hope when I have none myself._

**'NERDANEL, PLEASE STAY WITH ME!** He begged and pleaded. He gently shook her and lightly smacked her face as if to wake her up. He tried to lift her to stand only to have her limply collapse to her knees yet again. 

'I..I.. sorry.. . T-They...g-gone..f-forever... ...cold...dark..eve..rlas...ting...' . she could barely whisper.

**'Istarnie! For me. I NEED YOU HERE'** _If you go, it will not be long before I follow. Please! Damn you Valar have MERCY! I cannot forgive myself if I lose her like this!_

************ ** **

Her face contorted in pain and her eyes shut.

************ ** **

...f..f..failed.. as.. m-mot-ther... w-wife...d-dau-daughter...gg-grand-m-mother.

************ ** **

The last word she spoke was barely audible. But it was to Mahtan as a raft was to someone drowning at sea. _Grandmother?_ If he could distract her from her grief for just a brief few moments, it could be enough to pull her back. This was his chance to save his child's life.

************ ** **

'Grandmother?' Mahtan uttered questionly, loudly to make sure he was heard. He tried to ignore the flicker of hope as Nerdanel's eyes opened. She nodded, her face seeming less scrunched.

************ ** **

'Y- yes... ... .C..Curvo ... and ..T..T..Tyel..ko.'

************ ** **

In another life, time or place, Mahtan would be joyfully surprised and delighted to hear of a new addition to the family. Now, he used such information to weave a net to catch Nerdanel's fëa before it floated away with the fallen leaves.

************ ** **

'That is wonderful to hear! Imagine you are now a grandmother! I bet they are eager to meet you someday.'

************ ** **

Even in pain, his daughter had the ability to glare at him as if he had grown ten heads and Mahtan could not help but wonder was this a skill she acquired in the delivery room. _Perhaps this is what Fëanaro faced after he fainted during the Ambarussa's birth?_

************ ** **

'Atar!...T.T..they ..a..are...doomed !' she harshly replied.

************ ** **

_Good, you are able to feel emotions other than numb despair, speech is improving, good. Now I must give her her hope, not just antagonise her._

************ ** **

'It was not the grandchildren who made the choice to leave these shores, therefore I doubt the Valar will doom them for an action that was not theirs. Imagine child, all those who dwell in Aman and have new relatives in Arda. They would not be too pleased if their innocent kin are prevented from returning to Elvenhome. I do not think the Valar would wish for another rebellion now would they?'

************ ** **

_Please let my flawed but hopefully sufficient argument be enough._

************ ** **

Nerdanel, beginning to feel sliver of hope, began to sit up. Perhaps there was a chance, albeit small that she would meet her new kin.

************ ** **

Mahtan let out a sigh of relief. _Keep going,_ he urged himself, _we are not out of the woods yet._

************ ** **

'So tell me ... girls or boys?'

************ ** **

Nerdanel smiled weakly. Mahtan could not believe his fortune. ' Y-You be pl-pleased to know At-atto that the House of F-Fëanaro **FINALLY** has a little girl for all the boys to spoil and overprotect. A-A little w-wild h-untress, fair and green-eyed, just like Tyelko, her Atto.'

**************** ** ** ** **

She frowned 'I hope she is r-real and that I..I did not perhaps see an alternate future, for I could swear I saw her running wild through Oromë's Woods, though I know that to be impossible.'

**************** ** ** ** **

Mahtan coaxed her to continue. 'Have faith, I remember the woods of Arda, they were not entirely different to Oromë's.' _...Or... a sliver of a thought worked its way into Mahtan's mind, not entirely impossible, seeing as this is Tyelko,.. but highly unlikely.. nay.. the child must be in Arda if she exists._

**************** ** ** ** **

Mahtan felt as though he were the luckiest ner in Aman when Nerdanel continued to talk, without stuttering, about her visions.

**************** ** ** ** **

'That vision I had many years ago, she may well be a grown nís now. However last Spring, I envisioned Curvo with an adolescent son.'

**************** ** ** ** **

'A smith like his father?' Mahtan's inner craftsman could not help but ask.

**************** ** ** ** **

'What else!' Nerdanel snorted. 'His name is Telperinquar, or Celebrimbor in the tongue of the Sindar. He is also every bit his father's son in appearance, although I sensed a less defiant, more wise streak in him than in his atar. He will go far with that attitude.'

**************** ** ** ** **

'Indeed' said Mahtan, suddenly feeling exhausted as adrenaline left his system. Nerdanel frowned again as she realised how close she had just came to the Halls of Lord Námo.

**************** ** ** ** **

'Oh Atar, I am so sorry', she breathed. 'I despaired.. I was nearly gone.. I just could not bear the thought of never seeing them again. You.. you have saved me.'

**************** ** ** ** **

'It is I who should be sorry ... but let us not wallow in our regrets. We have each other and we have hope.'

**************** ** ** ** **

'I know' said Nerdanel. ' But...

**************** ** ** ** **

'I know' replied Mahtan. 'There are scars on our hearts that will never truly heal.'

**************** ** ** ** **

'Ai.' Nerdanel's eyes scanned around her workshop, pausing briefly at each statue.

**************** ** ** ** **

She turned to face Mahtan, her eyes sorrowful and grieving, but full of strength and stubborness and determinaton also.

**************** ** ** ** **

'We will swear our own oath, this day, that we will continue our lives, continue living, we will not let hopelessness and grief fill us, we are stronger than that. We will keep going, for their sakes and our own. We are of a line that is too stubborn and fierce to be broken by pain.' Nerdanel vowed she would never let herself despair out of control as she had today.

**************** ** ** ** **

'I swear' Mahtan replied. Lord Námo will not have us that easy!

**************** ** ** ** **

Nerdanel laughed, full of both comedy and tragedy.

**************** ** ** ** **

'You must think I am insane, recreating my family in stone, but I could not bear the thought of forgetting them, how do I know the clear picture in my head will stay there forever? Will it become blurry as the long years of eternity drag on?. I distracted myself with my task as I worked on them, but when my work was complete I realised that I can preserve their image and likeness forever, but I cannot preserve them'

**************** ** ** ** **

'I am glad you created them. They are perfect' Mahtan now walked over to the statues he now knew to be his great-grandchildren. Valar, they were certainly their fathers' offspring.

**************** ** ** ** **

Tyelpinquar, a tall handsome young ner, had curiousity and wonder in his eyes, the creativity and eagerness to learn Mahtan knew all too could also see wisdom in that youthful face and a gentleness that did not quite fit into any of Feanaro's house.

**************** ** ** ** **

Tyelko's little girl had hair as untamed as herself, garbed in the revealing leathers of a huntress, Tyelko's dagger sheathed at her hip, a spear, bow and quiver strapped to her back. Her face was fresh, as any child of the forest would be.

**************** ** ** ** **

As Mahtan turned away, he caught a glimpse of a small marking behind the girl's ear. He smirked, it matched her Atar's first tattoo.

**************** ** ** ** **

Fond memories of the uproar in court that followed after Tyelko and Írissë returned from the woods with very noticable matching tattoos on their arms came to the forefront of Mahtan's mind.

**************** ** ** ** **

Poor Írissë was never seen publically without long sleeves again.

**************** ** ** ** **

He was certain that sometimes Tyelkormo inked certain tattoos on his body just to cause controversy, as the ner often made a habit of adding a new illustration to his skin just before formal events took place in the palace, and insisted on wearing short sleeves, sometimes short tunics, simply to show them off.

**************** ** ** ** **

His first tattoo was much more simple and humble, hidden behind his ear. The tattoo he had given to his little girl.

**************** ** ** ** **

The eight-pointed star of the House of Fëanaro.

**************** ** ** ** **

SsSsSssSsSssSsSsSSsSs

**************** ** ** ** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's chapter three! Hope you liked the new characters of Mára and Tyeliër. I liked the idea of a little friend group among the younger hunters.
> 
> My Eru! Oromë certainly has a temper. Well at least Siofra is not letting him get away with insulting poor Vána like that!
> 
> Siofra and Kyelaeron's heads are now filled full of fantasies of being gold medalists at the Valinor Olympic games.
> 
> About Siofra's poor academic intelligence, I see this as a link to her Atar, a kind of restlessness that made sitting still in a room for hours to learn unbearable so instead, they focused on their interests, running free in the woods. I think it is a nice idea to portray that there are various different forms of intelligence and skill other than the stereotypical 'reading, writing, numbers'. Siofra excels in other ways, and is by no means stupid.
> 
> Also I like this idea because I saw a Vine about Celegorm not being able to read that still has me laughing every time I see it.
> 
> Siofra's tattoo has been revealed. Will anyone in Tirion notice the Fëanorian Star with that mop of blonde hair covering it? WINK WINK. Also I just had to add the little anecdote about Tyelkormo wrecking havoc in court with his tattoo's (and making Fëanaro proud, seeing as Indis was probably one of the ones very much against it.)
> 
> Alot of angst/hurt with the Mahtan and Nerdanel scenes, but hope at the end. I actually felt Mahtan's panaic there. Also, Nerdanel KNOWS she had two grandchildren! I have decided to follow the Shibboleth storyline, i.e. Amrod burns on the ships:(- sadly- I reckon if Nerdanel was able to foresee that Pityo was 'fated' then it was possible for her to have visions of new additions to the family.
> 
> Fëanor and Nerdanel were 100% pregnant before they were married officially. (Then again don't elves do it differently? Isn't sex and marraige the same thing to them?I'm not completely sure but I think so? Alot of grey area there John Ronald!
> 
> Also as if I did not make it obvious enough before, I have all but wrote Kyelaeron's identity on his forehead.
> 
> Please Review and see you all for chapter 4!
> 
> SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSs
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Mára- 'Good natured'
> 
> Tyeliër- 'Mirthful'
> 
> Meldo- lover
> 
> Nelyo- 'Nelyafinwë'- father name of Maedhros- 'Third Finwë'
> 
> Kano- 'Kanafinwë'- father name of Maglor-'Strong-voiced Finwë
> 
> Tyelko- 'Tyelkormo'- mother name of Celegorm 'Hasty Riser'
> 
> Moryo- 'Morifinwë'- Father name of Caranthir 'Dark Finwë'
> 
> Curvo- 'Curufinwë' - Father name of Curufin 'Skilled Finwë'
> 
> Telvo- 'Telufinwë'- Father name of Amras- 'Last Finwë'
> 
> Pityo- 'Pityafinwë'- Father name of Amrod 'little Finwë'
> 
> Telperinquar - 'Silver Fist' -Celebrimbor
> 
> Istarnie- Name given to Nerdanel 'Wise Woman'
> 
> Írissë- Aredhel
> 
> Tilion- A hunter of Oromë who drives the vessel that is the moon across the skies
> 
> Aráto- Champion


	4. I hope so, I hope so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunters travel to Tirion for the Games. The Lady of the Hunt gives her husband a telling off he probably deserves. We meet more Noldor royalty in both the present and in flashbacks.

_Valinor, First age 505..._

'....and then there was the time I was innocently strolling through the craft market when suddenly a swarm of dirty looks came my way along with the odd elda walking up to me with pieces of silver and asking if I needed food or shelter! I was so angry and insulted I threw the silver back in their ridiculously ignorant faces!'

Mára once again ranted about how much she had disliked the 'strange' ways of the city folk.

'Well I did tell you to wear a cloak like me Melda, a nís walking around with her abdomen naked and the majority of her legs bare is seen as...disrespectful'. Tyeliër half-heartedly defended his home.

Half a century before the couple had visited Tyeliër's relations in Tirion. Mára was introduced to Tyeliër's parents and siblings, a meeting that was...tense...to say the least.

'I will give you disrespectful Tyeliër, the way those bitches you call Ammë and Nésa looked me up and down as if I was a stray dog you took pity on in the street.'

'A street dog would not give me half as much trouble as you,' sighed Tyeliër, though his eyes betrayed him, gleaming with pride and affection.

'If you want hassle free life, get yourself an upper class wife with a personality of a lemon that has been sucked dry' teased Mára.

'I would, but I know it would break your delicate damsel's heart and I being a very chivalrous and heroic ner could not bring myself to do such a disgraceful deed!'

Mára snorted at the sheer absurdness of Tyelier's description, especially the 'delicate' and 'chivalrous' parts, which could not be further from the truth.

She replied 'And your life would be boring.'

'And my life would be boring ' Tyeliër answered, grinning widely.

Siofra and Kyelaeron shook from mirth at their friends' war of words from atop their steeds. The hunters of Oromë hunters were already halfway through their two week journey to the Noldo city.

Thanks to the constant, endless bickering and wit of Tyeliër and Mára, time was passing very fast indeed.

SsSSSsSSSsSSsssSsSSsSsS

Oromë led is host of followers atop Nahar, Vána riding her elegant mare by his side.

He rode in silence.

He had kept his silence for the last fortnight.

Ever since the counsel he held with those idiots he must- not- think- of- if- he- intends- to- keep- his- temper, Oromë had not uttered a single word to his lady, in a petty attempt to hurt her as she had him, as a way to somehow make her feel the fear and despair that plagued him every minute of every day.

Of course, Vána being well used to his grudges, acted as lovely as ever, which only increased Oromë's annoyance.

She single-handedly took over his role, while he brooded, working tirelessly to ensure the hunters understood what awaited them in Tirion, educating the younger ones on the history and meaning of the games, and drilling court protocol into even the wildest elves, including Siofra.

Oromë winced and took a sharp intake of breath. He knew deep down that it was only a matter of time before the nis's identity was revealed to her, one way or another.

How could Vána not see it?

 _Oh wait..._ Oromë dryly mused... _she does see it. She is fully aware of the fact that we are walking my Nielíqui into a death trap..._

'Slightly overdramatic there my love, knowing who she is will not _kill_ her.'

Oromë cringed. _Get out of my head you charming murderess!_

Vána simply shook her head at his exaggerated thoughts and continued her explanation.

'Hurt her, perhaps, but in the end it will give her strength and meaning. She has a role to play in the music, you know it is true. There is a path for her she must choose to follow. It is not for us to decide if she treads it or not.

We cannot force her to take the road, yet we cannot hide it from her either, as you wish to do. If we keep this secret from her longer I fear she will see it as betrayal, and believe me, we do not want another Fëanorian setting their wrath against us.'

The realisation of precisely _why_ Vána had voted for the Games to return hit Oromë like a ton of bricks. How had he not seen it?

Reasons other Valar had for the return included the people's morale, moving on and integration of elves.

However, this had _nothing_ to do with why his wife had decided for the Aráto Games to go ahead.

He pulled on Nahar's reigns abrubptly, the host stopping behind him, and shot a piercing glare at Vána that probably would have scared Manwë, Varda even Melkor.

Any Vala except Vána, who defiantly stared back at him.

 _You want her to know the truth, not for herself or her kin that dwell here, you want her to leave these shores **ON A FOOLS ERRAND THAT WILL EITHER GET HER KILLED OR DOOM THE HOUSE OF FËANARO MORE THAN THEY ALREADY ARE!**_ Oromë all but roared through his bond with his wife.

She did not even flinch, she had been expecting his fury.

It was time to release her own.

_**YOU, OROMË ARE LIVING IN FEAR AND IT IS BLINDING YOU. YOU ARE SELFISHLY HOARDING SIOFRA ARANYA TYELKORMIEL AS THOUGH SHE WAS YOURS TO CONTROL! YOU ARE LETTING YOUR GRIEF OVER TYELKORMO PREVENT YOU FROM REALISING HIS DAUGHTER'S FULL POTENTIAL, WHAT SHE COULD ACHIEVE, THE HORRORS SHE COULD PREVENT, IF SHE IS SIMPLY ALLOWED TO. I AM AFRAID TOO, I LOVE HER AS MY OWN DAUGHTER ALSO, BUT I CANNOT FORGIVE MYSELF IF HUNDREDS, MAYBE THOUSANDS DIE BECAUSE I WAS TOO FEARFUL AND SELFISH TO TRUST A NÍS JUST BECAUSE OF CRIMES A FAMILY SHE NEVER KNEW COMMITTED!** _

_**DID YOU NOT SEE THE TAPESTRIES? THE SONS OF FËANOR ARE FEELING THE PULL OF THE OATH, AND DIOR IS AN EASIER TARGET THAN MELKOR. KINSLAYING IS INEVITABLE UNLESS SOMEONE INTERVENES! AND THIS TIME THE ATTACK WILL BE CALCULATED, PLANNED AND VERY MUCH INTENTIONAL! THE EXCUSE OF CONFUSION AND SELF DEFENSE THAT MANY CLAIMED FOR ALQUALONDË WILL NOT BE VALID FOR THIS BRUTALITY.** _

_**THEY YIELD TO NO ONE BUT THEMSELVES. SIOFRA IS THE ONLY CHANCE OF PREVENTING THIS ATROCITY. SHE SHARES THEIR BLOOD, AND THEREFORE THEIR TRUST**_.

_**LOOK AT TELPERINQUAR, AN OUTCAST AMONG THOSE HE DENOUNCED HIS LINEAGE AND HOUSE FOR, MISTRUSTED, BETRAYED. LITTLE DID HE KNOW THAT THE SHADOW OF CURUFINWË'S CRIMES WOULD FOLLOW HIM NO MATTER WHAT HE SAID OR DID. HE IS ALONE, ALL HE HAS LEFT IS HIS CRAFT AND HIS FATHER'S DESPERATE EAGERNESS TO SUCCEED.** _

_**HIS PRIDE AND MORAL VALUES PREVENT HIM FROM RECONCILING WITH HIS UNCLES AND FATHER, THOUGH DEEP DOWN HE LONGS FOR THE BELONGING HE ONCE HAD. I FEAR HIS WANT OF COMPANIONSHIP WILL BE SEEN AS A WEAKNESS TO EXPLOIT, THAT HIS SKILLS WILL BE TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF TO CREATE SOMETHING MUCH MORE SINISTER THAN THE SILMARILS, AND LOOK HOW MUCH SUFFERING THOSE THREE GEMS ALONE CAUSED.** _

_**HE NEEDS FAMILY WHO ARE NOT TAINTED BY OATHS, BLOODSHED AND GREED, WHO WILL PUT HIM BEFORE SUCH HORRENDOUS ACTS.** _

_**WITH THE DEATHS OF FINDEKÁNO AND ÍRISSË, ANY MINUSCULE PIECES OF UNITY AND CO-OPERATION THAT EXISTED BETWEEN THE HOUSES OF FËANARO AND NOLOFINWË HAVE ALL BUT DISAPPEARED! WHAT CHANCE DO THEY HAVE OF DEFENDING THEMSELVES AGAINST MORGOTH IF THEY ARE DIVIDED? SIOFRA IS A VITAL LINK BETWEEN THE TWO, A CHILD OF BOTH HOUSES, SHE ALONE CAN STRENGTHEN THE ALLIANCE.** _

_**AND I KNOW YOU HAVE SEEN GONDOLIN, SEEMINGLY PEACEFUL BUT THERE IS A DARKNESS WITHIN, A DARKNESS BORN OF LONELINESS, A FEELING OF ABANDONMENT, THAT RESIDES WITHIN LÓMION. THE ONLY WAY THAT CITY MAY FALL IS FROM TREACHERY WITHIN. THE BOY IS ALONE IN THE WORLD, TRAPPED IN A CITY THAT IS WARY OF HIM, BECAUSE OF REASONS OUT OF HIS CONTROL.** _

_**HE NEEDS SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS, WHO LOVES AND CARES FOR HIM NOT BECAUSE OF WHO HIS MOTHER WAS, BUT BECAUSE OF WHO HE IS. SOMEONE WHO WILL NOT TRY TO MOULD HIM INTO SOMETHING HE IS NOT, AS I FEAR TURUKÁNO IS UNKNOWINGLY DOING.** _

_**HE NEEDS TO BE UNDERSTOOD. HE NEEDS SOMEONE WHO SHARES HIS INNER DESIRE TO BE FREE AND LONGS FOR LOVE AND FAMILY, TRUE FAMILY AS MUCH AS HIM.** _

_**I FEAR OF WHAT THAT BOY IS CAPABLE OF, IF HE IS FORCED TO SURPRESS HIS EMOTIONS FOR MUCH LONGER.** _

_**HOW ARE YOU SO BLIND, MY HUSBAND?! SIOFRA IS THE KEY TO SAVING SO MANY!** _

Vána sighed in exasperation as she concluded her argument. Oromë stared at her, in shock at her outburst, the ferocity of which he had never seen.

She had brought up truths he had not even thought of, possabilities that both scared him to Mando's and aroused guilt in him, for his ignorance of the world he resided in.

He closed his eyes in grief. Vána is right, but why did it have to be Siofra?

He opened his eyes and faced his wife, his eyes uttering his unspoken apology, and understanding.

He knew he had been selfish, but he could not bear to face the pain he had faced with the loss of Tyelkormo again.

 _She will not share his fate my love, I am sure of it._ Vána reassured him.

'I hope so, Melda, I hope so.' Oromë spoke to his wife for the first time since the counsel.

_To lose my Nielíqui would be my undoing..._

Vána smiled sadly as Oromë urged Nahar into a trot again, the host resuming their pace.

 _She is my Nielíqui too my love..._ Vána whispered through their bond as she followed him.

SsssSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsssss

As the horses resumed their march, Kyelaeron raised an eyebrow and briefly glanced at Siofra, as she said farewell to a cheeky sparrow they had encountered along the way .

 _What do you suppose that was about?_ He uttered to Siofra in ósanwë. The intense stares between their Lord and Lady had not gone unnoticed.

 _I can only hope they have made an attempt to resolve their differences_ , she replied, _it would not do to have them bickering upon our arrival in Tirion._

 _What is this? Aranya the Wild worrying what others think?_ Kyelaeron teased.

_I am merely looking out for all of us hunters, it is embarassing enough that we have to take part in a dance that is as lively as a dead tree!_

Kyelaeron shook his head, memories of the lessons they had with Vána in court protocol coming to the forefront of his mind

The lessons included dance, however little did they know that the dances of the high Elves of Tirion were far less free flowing and spirited than the lively rhythms of the hunters.

Graceful, reserved lifts, elegant straight posture and strict timing replaced twirling hips, seductive legs and unconfined melodies, much to the displeasure of Siofra and all of the others in Oromë's woods.

Except Kyelaeron.

Kyelaeron thrived in the tight technicality and movement of the court dances.

He could not explain it, the feeling of euphoria brought to him by elegant movement.

The way he had to calculate each and every step in his head, the satisfaction when he perfectly completed them all.

The music, the beautiful elegant music that transported him away to a world he never knew, a world of Lords and Ladies and Kings and Queens.

He had the ability to memorise each dance Vána showed them in record time, much to the awe, wonder and envy of his fellow hunters.

And most of all he loved to endlessly tease Aranya each time she got told off for moving her hips too much or for turning dainty twirls or lifts into suggestive moves.

Kyelaeron could not resist yet another chance to mock untamed Aranya. He spoke, silver voice full of mockery. 'Oh Anya, no need to be bitter, it is common knowledge that you are simply _jealous_ of my superior dance ability'

He smirked as he saw his oselle's eyes narrow and scowl appear. 'I am NOT jealous Kyelaeron! And how can you call that _nonsense_ dancing! Every time I actually perform a good move well, I am told that it is 'not allowed' or 'not suitable' for the court! I am beginning to believe the city elves are the crazy ones, not us!'

Kyelaeron laughed 'No one is as crazy as you, Anya.'

'I did not drop Vána on her head while attempting to perform a _crazy_ lift in that waltz remember? Oh yes, that, of course she remembered that, Kyelaeron thought dryly.

'If you put as much effort into memorising dance steps as you put into remembering my slight mishaps in life, you would be a decent dancer who would not embarrass us hunters as we perform in front of the High King!'.

Kyelaeron laughed as he could see Siofra struggle to reach for his head to whack it. She gave up and started giggling.

'Typical of me to put us all to shame.'

'Indeed' He could not stop his grin.

'But Otorno', Siofra began 'How are you able to dance so well? Kyelaeron opened his mouth to make a humorous comeback, but was stopped by Siofra 'Seriously, Kyelaeron! I am extremely curious.'

Kyelaeron sighed, and finally voiced thoughts and memories that had crossed his mind constantly the last few weeks.

'I cannot be sure, for everything my Ammë told me about herself and my Atar always seemed too good to be true, almost as if she turned a story of two ordinary elves into an epic lovestory, a fairytale perhaps.'

He took a deep breath and continued 'You know how I feel about my Atar, I want to believe he was everything my Ammë told me but if he was so wonderful, why didn't he visit? Or, if he did not know, why didn't Ammë tell him I existed?'

'I do not know, Otorno, but I am sure there was a good reason, if he had broken your Ammë's heart she would not have spoken so highly of him, I am certain.

'Hmm, I suppose' Kyelaeron replied 'Well one of the magnificent tales she told me of herself and Atar was the story of how they met, at a Winters ball in Tirion.'

'Ammë was Avari, and well used to life in the woods, however she had a dream to dance and perform for a living, and when she danced, apparently she could enchant and amaze crowds of merchants, craftsmen and nobles alike. She was unmatched in the art of dance by anyone...except my Atar.'

'From what I gather, Atar was a noble, a lower house than the royals and many other Lords, but upper-class nonetheless.'

'Now do not laugh, but according to Ammë he was brilliantly talented at _everything_. He had trained with Tulkas warriors in his youth, and was well able to brandish a sword, perhaps that is why sword fighting comes so easy to me.

He also was a musician, Ammë told me the two of them used to run off to the woods together. He would play and she would dance and they would both sing in harmony and be content in each others company. He even taught her the Water Song, a lullaby passed down from father to son in his house. A melody she sang and taught me.

'Anyway, she said that when she heard him play his flute at the winter's ball she was captivated. The silver in his eyes reflected the snow and the beautiful melody he performed. She danced to his music in front of the crowd, and they in turn were captivated by her.'

'Before she knew it, the two of them were dancing together, and she said it was like a dream, that she was forever lost in those sparkling silver eyes! Do not mock! these eyes have given me enough grief from you!' He laughed.

Siofra held her tongue, albeit reluctantly.

'And for a while they were the most famous dancers in Tirion. Ammë's dream came true. They were invited to all of the highest of the highest parties and occasions. They were clad in the finest silks and garments, gifts from admirers and artisans. Life was applauses and roses thrown their direction.'

'Then my Atar declared his love for my Amme, by a silver fountain, and he braided her hair with Summer flowers of the forest. They began courting.'

'Ammë used to say that she would dance every day even if herself and Atar had no crowd to dance to, no finery, clad in rags, no balls or parties, simply just the two of them lost in each others eyes, lost in the beautiful music and elegant, graceful moves, for it is what deep down in their hearts they loved to do.'

'And she loved him.'

'And that, Anya is where I get my Vala-like dance ability from.' Kyelaeron concluded his tale with a sad grin. Siofra, knowing his pain all-too-well, softly smiled back at him.

'That story is a beautiful one Kyelaeron, and I think that your moves are proof enough that your Ammë was not exaggerating!'

Kyelaeron stared to the distance, half lost in memory and longing.

'I hope so Anya, I hope so.

sSsssSsSsSsssSSsSsSSsSsSsSssSSsSSs

The main square in Tirion was flooded with people who had gathered to catch a glimpse of the competitors of the Aráto Games.

Today marked the opening of the competition, for the first time in what had been far too long.

From her position in the front row of the street spectators, Nerdanel watched as Tulkas and Nessa led their warriors through the streets, to the royal box.

Thunderous applause followed the warriors, they had the visage of heroes, dressed in fine shining armour, disciplined, riding in sync, looking straight ahead at nothing in particular. _Statues_ thought Nerdanel wryly, _they are too still._

She watched as the esteemed warriors were greeted by Arafinwë. _I must get into the habit of calling him "His Highness'. Why does it seem so strange on my tongue?_

Her eyes scanned the royal box, she recognised many there. At Arafinwë's side sat Eärwen _...so they have reconciled after Alqualondë and the flight of their children..._ Nerdanel was glad for them, they needed each other.

Indis was sat the other side regal and opulent. Immediately, Nerdanel felt irrational anger. Upon realising what she was doing she quickly smothered it _Ai Fëanaro! even now your grudges still impact me!_

Findis was found beside her mother, face passive and pretty, as it always had been. Nerdanel always found it difficult to get through to her, to have a genuine conversation with the second child of Finwë, that was free of formalities and protocol.

_Perhaps that is one of the many reasons Fëanaro insisted the boys grow up outside the palace? So that they were free to grow into their own personality, not have it moulded for them?_

_Then again, out of all his half siblings Findis was the only one Fëanaro was remotely close to, and he did trust her with secrets..._

Nerdanel smirked shamelessly as she remembered some _very sensitive_ information Fëanaro had once trusted his half sister with _...Maitimo..._

_If it was not for Findis hastily making 'official' wedding ceremony preparations and planning palace accounts, our union would indeed have been much more controversial than it already was! It was difficult enough to convince Finwë that Nelyo arrived two months early! I do not know what we would have done if we had to pretend he came five months before he was due!_

And finally, beside Findis, sat Lady Lemon herself.

_I must stop this childish nonsense! Those boys of mine are a bad influence! And Fëanaro was no better, egging them on!_

_Oh but I admit, their epessë for her was funny... and accurate...she was so bitter all the time...and still is... bitter as a lemon!_

_She still has the scowl... Oh I pity Írisse, all the times she faced that look after Tyelko dragged her into some sort of trouble..._

_...And Maitimo...the glare she gave him any time he dared even talk in her presence to her precious eldest!..that look could make Fëanaro humble!..._

_Lady_ Anairë sat at the edge of the box, prim and proper as ever, eyes sweeping each of the warriors, as if searching for imperfections.

Her dark hair was braided back, adorned in the finest sequins and jewels. She wore a long sleeved gown that cried out royalty and pretentiousness.

She would be called pretty, beautiful, stunning even, if she could simply stop scowling!

Nerdanel adverted her gaze as she noticed Anairë staring- and scowling- back at her. She caught me Nerdanel sighed, she recognised the particular look she received from Anaire all too well.

Nerdanel had faced this look all morning.

It was her first public appearance since the dreaded night she had begged and pleaded Fëanaro to spare her the Ambarussa, or even just Pityo, in a desperate attempt to save him from the horrible fate she knew deep down in her heart to be true.

She had politely declined Arafinwë's invitation to join her in-laws in the royal seats. She never felt as though she belonged there, and the last thing she wanted was to be on show, exposed and vulnerable to all the faces who would give her _the look._

The look of grief, turned to anger and hatred towards her. As if by glaring at her they could hurt Fëanaro, hurt the one who took so many loved ones away from them, by the sword, ships or ice.

The look Anairë was throwing her right now...

_Anairë never was overly fond of me. I was too 'un-ladylike' and to be fair Fëanaro and the boys constantly mocking her and Nolofinwë did not help my case._

_I can see the blame in her eyes. Does she not realise the fact that I am in Aman without them means that I too did not agree with their actions?_

_Funny...our situations are quite similar. Two women who married into royalty. Wives who chose to remain behind while their husbands went on idiotic journeys. Mothers of children who sided with their fathers rather than the ones who would have chosen them over pride, revenge and glory._

Nerdanel scanned the area around her, searching for something to take her mind off those unsettling, piercing eyes fixed on her.

To her left she spied a nís with a young child, barely reaching her hip.

He was a handful, desperately climbing, clambering, pulling and yelling. Doing anything within his power to break free of his Ammë's unfaltering grip on his little hand.

This brought back memories to Nerdanel. While she empathised with the young mother, she could truly not say she felt sorry for her.

_If you think that it difficult try holding two Ambarussa as one cries and tries to lie down and the other pulls in an escape attempt, as Curvo insists on twirling sharp swords in the air, barely catching them before they pokes someone's eye out, all while Moryo engages in a fist fight with someone who called the hunters 'feral', taking the remark as an insult to Tyelko, who he was not even speaking to at the time because of some petty fight!_

She remembered that Aráto Games, the games Írissë and Tyelko had won, as though it were only a century ago...

SSSSsssSSSsSSsSSsssSSs

Valinor Y.T...

The streets were full to the brim. Elves of every culture and class streamed into Tirion.

Excitement and anticipation filled the air with every breath one took. Today marked the opening of the Aráto Games.

The atmosphere was full of joy. It was safe to say the Games were the most loved celebration, people travelling from far and wide to catch a glimpse of their champions to be.

For one nís however, it was a _nightmare._

 **'AMMË'!** a tiny red head screamed at the top of his lungs, **'TELVO IS MEAN HE SAID BAD MEAN THINGS IN MY HEAD!'**

 **"AMMË LET ME GO TO ATTO AND NEL AND KANA! I WANT KANA SING!'** an identical voice, scream and child shouted at her other side.

'The two of you shushhh! Tyelko will not take you hunting when you are older if you keep misbehaving!'

 **'BUT AMMË!'** The twins cried in unison.

**'TELVO CALLED ME A BABY! HE SAID TELVO IS OLDER AND I DO WHAT HE SAY!'**

**'NO AMMË! I DID NOT SAY THAT I THINK IT!I WANT PITYO TO COME TO SEE KANO WITH ME AND HE SAY NO!'**

_**AI ERU GIVE ME STRENGTH!** _

'Pityo, you AND Telvo are the _youngest_ of the family and you are big boys now! BUT you are both acting like babies and if this continues you are not hunting anytime soon!' The familiar sharp voice was music to Nerdanel's ears.

Thank Ilúvatar, the Ambarussa actually listened to their older brother. The voice continued

'Telvo, you know Pityo can hear what you think because of your bond. So do not be nasty! And you know Kano has to perform for all these elves now. He will sing to you later!'

The twins were silent and still for a few sacred, brief moments. Nerdanel saw them staring at each other unseeingly. They were apologising in their heads...at least she dearly hoped they were.

'Moryo, you have no idea how grateful I am you are here on the streets with us!' Nerdanel sighed in relief.

'It was not as if I had a choice, but if I did then of course I would rather be here than up in that box with those stuck up, pompous...

'CARNISTIR we are in a public place!' Nerdanel reminded her blunt and impatient son, who had no time for the politics and gossip of the social class he belonged to.

'Sorry Ammë' He mumbled.

Nerdanel shook her head. Carnister was a bright young ner, and he had the ability to control even the Ambarussa! This was extremely useful in situations like this, where his younger brother's were making a holy show of themselves to an audience.

However, his temper and impatience was his downfall, and there was something about certain half-relatives and their fake but friendly demeanor that never failed to drive him up the wall.

Therefore, Moryo did not make the cut for the royal box. In fact, out of all seven only Maitimo was trusted, respected and level headed enough to suffer/sit through a whole social event in the presence of the other royals.

Makalaurë would be trusted to not wreck havoc amongst his cousins also, but he had been tasked with performing and conducting a 'victourious march' as the competitors marched through the city.

Tyelkormo was with the hunters, making their way through the city. Not that he would have been let anywhere near the royal seats if he was not a member of Oromë's host.

The Ambarussa were constantly followed by trouble, mischief and tantrums, so Nerdanel made sure to keep them **well** away from where the royals sat, to prevent either of them from making a beeline for their Atto any chance they got.

And Atarinkë...

 _Where is Atarinkë?_ looked around her, slightly unsettled by the fact that Curvo could be up to _anything_. He was not welcome into the royal box for that very reason.

He had still not been forgiven for the time he placed tiny metal spikes onto Nolofinwë's chair...but the punishment did not matter to Curvo, he had made his Atar proud.

Nerdanel spotted a large group of adolescent níssi gathered around something... _or someone._

She had an idea who it might be. Oh he knew _exactly_ how to charm them with his wit and silver tongue.

The girls moved a bit, giving Nerdanel a better view of her teenage son. She saw he was showing off his new daggers and swords to them, items he planned to sell in the markets that proceeded the parade.

Some of his works were taller than him, Fëanaro really did have him climb high from a young age.

She smirked as she saw a few of the níssi buy swords and daggers. She shook her head. She could tell from their mannerisms that these ladies were not warriors in the slightest, they were upper-class madams trying to impress a prince, whose charm they had been blinded by.

_He has you **exactly** where he wants you, girls._

Nerdanel's look of slight disapproval mixed with humour at the pure naivety of the níssi transformed to one of horror when she saw Curvo begin to _juggle_ his pieces in the air.

_What in the name of Eru is he doing! He already has them wrapped around his finger! I cannot watch. He is going to kill someone!_

As if on cue, the Ambarussa decided to have yet another row. This time the strain on Nerdanel's arms was worse and prevented her from strutting over to Atarinkë stop his idiotic performance. Pityo wanted to **'GO SLEEP BED NOW'!** on the cobbled pavement and Telvo decided **'NEL NOT MUSIC NER! I GO SEE NEL!'**

The two pulled her, towards the ground and towards Maitimo, and Nerdanel truly believed that her arms were going to fall off.

_So this is how my sculpting career ends..._

The horn of Oromë echoed through the city.

'I'm leaving now before I have to look at his _stupid, smug face_ ' Moryo muttered.

Two months ago, Tyelko had given Huan one of Moryo's Tapestries, a work he had spent almost a year on and was almost finished. Huan tore it to shreds.

Needless to say, the house had nearly fallen down as the brothers, who were not named 'hasty riser' and 'red faced ' for nothing, argued, yelled and screamed at each other all day.

Eventually Fëanaro and Nerdanel had to end the war and took Moryo's side. Tyelkormo 'hastily rised' and left for the Oromë's woods that night. With the Games commencing so soon after, they had not seen Tyelko since.

Morifinwë obviously was still holding a grudge.

The horn echoed again, this time closer. The hunters would arrive any minute.

Moryo made to leave, pausing only briefly as Nerdanel raised an eyebrow, expression uttering 'forgive and forget' quite clearly.

'...albsolute savages...those Oromë followers are feral I tell you! Not a notion of civility in their heads...pure animals...' a hushed voice whispered to a nís to their right.

Nerdanel knew not everyone accepted the liberating and carefree lives the hunters lived, but for someone to voice it with such hatred...she felt shocked.

Moryo however, had only anger.

Nerdanel watched , unable to move - thanks to the Ambarussa- as Carnistir strode up to the ner who had spoke, with a flaming fury as bright as his father's.

'What did you just call my brother?' his voice spat venom.

The ner, realising who had overheard his harsh words, completely panicked 'Y-yo-ur H-Hhigh-n-n-ess, I...I d-didnt r-real-ise.

The ner was knocked unconscious before he was able to finish his sentence.

Nerdanel knew she should punish Moryo, what he had just done was unacceptable for a prince.

But Nerdanel was a mother before she was a princess, and did not like someone bad-mouthing her son like that.

Also, she felt extremely proud of Moryo for standing up for Tyelko like that. _Perhaps this will end the feud!?_

At that very moment the crowd collectively gasped as one. The horn sounded for the third time.

Oromë and Vána led their hunters through the streets. That was not what had them gasping however.

Behind the Lord and Lady, rode Tyelkormo atop Huan.

He had no top on.

He proudly showed off all of his tattoos, half of which Nerdanel had no knowledge of, until now.

Tyelko led his fellow clan of hunters, all either torso naked like him or just about covered with brown hunting leathers.

_They are truly the opposite of the warriors, Nerdanel thought. The have no particular order for riding, no uniformity, no shining armour, and yet, it will be extremely difficult for the organised, efficient, well equipped warriors to defeat them_

The Ambarussa whooped and forgot their qualms as they spotted their big brother.

Beside her, Moryo stiffened in surprise 'My Eru'.

Nerdanel had not noticed _who_ was riding alongside Tyelkormo, in huntress garb, throwing modesty, royalty and social expectations out the window.

She caught eyes with Atarinkë across the street. The smug look on his face told her that he _knew_ this was going to happen.

She dared to quickly glance to the royal box, where she glimpsed the stone-faced expressions of her in-laws.

Maitimo clapped a frozen Findekáno on the back as he himself struggled to keep a straight face.

Fëanaro looked surprised, but at the same time proud.

Turukáno placed a hand over Itarillë's eyes. He looked slightly concerned, his daughter's face seemed too awe-struck for comfort

Indis frowned, while Finwë unsucessfully tried to mask his discomfort at the sight before him.

Arafinwë and his sons smiled politely, but Nerwen seemed slightly _envious..._

Anaire and Nolofinwë were stunned.

A sharp ** _tang_** discord met her ears...Nerdanel could not believe it...the havoc created had even caused Kano to play a bum note!

Nerdanel could not help herself. She beamed and giggled as she applauded the hunters.

Tyelko caught her eye and shot her his signature smirk and wink.

All Nerdanel could do was shake her head and watch yet another uproar created by one of her sons.

For alongside Tyelkormo, a new follower of Oromë rode, intending to compete in the games, against many respected warriors who were being considered as potential suitors.

_Írissë._

SSSssSSssSsSsSsSSSsss

_Valinor, First Age 505..._

Nerdanel was dragged out of her nostalgia by the familiar sound of Oromë's Horn.

Everything and nothing had changed.

She watched the hunters, wild and uncaring as they were all those years ago, pass her by on the street.

It all happened so quickly.

The boisterous child she had spotted earlier somehow managed to break free from his mother's hold.

He dashed away, out onto the street, right in the middle of Oromë's host.

Exactly like all those years ago, the crowd gasped as one. A steed reared on its hind legs, the rider trying to avoid trampling the little one.

Like a flash of lightning, a blur of leathers and blonde curls swung from her unsteady steed, scooped up the child and lunged out of the way, before her horse landed on the ground.

In the aftershock that followed, the blonde nís strode over to the fretting mother and handed her the little rascal.

As she whispered calming words to her horse, she caught eyes with Nerdanel.

_...Our eyes are the same..._

As the huntress leapt back onto her steed and resumed her procession, she threw Nerdanel something she had not seen in what felt like an eternity.

The unmistakable smirk and wink.

One word came to mind...

_Tyelkormo..._

Nerdanel had to pinch herself in attempt to stop herself from jumping to conclusions.

_...Tyelko is in Arda, his child is there...._

_...But in my vision she was in Oromë's woods..._

_...I must stop this!...I need to move on..._

_...In the very unlikely event that Tyelko had a daughter unknown to us, would he have left her behind?..._

_...Ai Valar! Am I merely seeing what I want to see..?_

_Was he trying to protect her?_

'I hope so...' Nerdanel hoarsely whispered...'I hope so...

SSSssSSssSsSsSsSSSsss

****

Quenya Translations:

****

Nésa - sister

****

Ósanwë - telepathic communication

****

Epessë - nickname

****

Nielíqui - the daughter of Oromë and Vána in earlier texts. In this story, the epessë given to Siofra by Oromë.

****

Findekáno - Fingon

****

Arafinwë - Finarfin

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Nerwen - Galadriel

****

SSSssSSssSsSsSsSSSsss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter over! I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> Tyeliër and Mára bickering remind me of Han and Leia. But then when I think of their actual personalities I'm like wait, their nothing like Han and Leia... Idk!
> 
> One does not simply mess with Vána. She even scared me there! Very wise words though... its like she read the Silmarillion!
> 
> Oromë seems to have finally realised that Siofra has the ability to make a difference. Will he be able to let her go though? That is the question.
> 
> 'Nielíqui' was the name of the daughter of Oromë and Vána in the early writings of the Silmarillion. Tolkien scrapped the idea, but I thought it would be nice to use it as an epessë the two give to Siofra, as they see her as their own.
> 
> I have a fair amount of Ósanwë in this chapter. I am following the idea that one can only communicate telepathicaly if they have a strong bond with the person they are communicating with.There are exceptions, such as gifted elves like Galadriel.
> 
> I like to imagine Kyelaerons parents as a golden-era Hollywood couple!
> 
> Also yes, the naughty hunters love their suggestive dance moves.
> 
> Maybe it's sad that I'm simping for my own OC...but Kyelaeron is probably sooo sexy doing his ballroom dancing...damn.
> 
> Nerdanel is trying to move on and get on with her life. I wanna do a Moryo with everyone glaring at her and punch them tbh.
> 
> Anairë is not a pleasant woman so far...but we must not forget she is as much Siofra's grandmother as Nerdanel is...but will she accept her? I mean Siofra's exsistence pretty much defies all the morals she seems to have had...we'll have to wait and see...
> 
> I loved writing the flashback scene. Everything about it. I think its because I got to write my own little personality and anecdote for each Fëanorion. My favourite to write was the Ambarussa as tantrum toddlers.
> 
> I also enjoyed the Caranthir parts, as I feel out of all the sons of Fëanor, he does not get enough attention.
> 
> And DUN DUN DUUUUNNNN! Nerdanel and Siofra saw each other! Does Siofra know there is a connection? Will Nerdanel listen to her head or her heart? All will be revealed...
> 
> See you for chapter 5! PLEASE REVIEW!
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	5. Diamonds in the Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grief-stricken sister of a certain exiled Lord searches the streets for her rumored long-lost nephew. Arafinwë is a good brother-in-law. Eärwen sees more than most do in Siofra. Kyelaeron gets teased relentlessly because he loves to be centre-stage.

_Valinor First Age 505..._

Amidst the crowd, a pair of silver eyes scanned each warrior and hunter that passed her by, searching for _any_ evidence at all that the rumored child of years long gone existed.

She remembered those days all too well.

The days her brother was in _love,_ with a nís who just so happened to be her osellë and dearest friend.

She was _so happy_ when the two _finally_ admitted their love for each other, possessing an excitement that only young, giggling níssi could comprehend.

She was _so proud_ as she watched the two perform together. _Her_ brother and _her_ osellë were simply _perfect_ together, both as dance partners and lovers.

And she recalled the heartbreak that followed, when not only a month after they wed in secret (they could not wait any longer, and the groom's pious father would _never_ give his blessing to their union)her newly-wed law sister left a brief letter of farewell to her husband, claiming she wished to sever their union, and fled into the wilds.

Her brother had fruitlessly searched far and wide for his wife, but her Avarin tracking and travel experience meant her brother was inferior in his knowledge, and, since his love did not want to be found, she was not.

_Strange... back then I could think of no worse fate for my dear hanno. I was very wrong._

_What a **fool** he was to follow Atar to the Helcaraxë! He was always too eager to please that ignorant pig!_

_Sons are ridiculously stupid with their blind obedience and loyalty to their fathers...There are too many examples in our very recent history for it not to be so._

After the marriage was broken, she was the shoulder her hanno cried on, when they were alone and free of the judgemental criticism of their father, who would surely have stated it was _cowardly_ or _feminine_ or _ridiculous_ for a grown ner to release his emotion in such a manner.

Every evening, when the days duties had been done, when the mask of serenity and calm was allowed to slip, a knock would sound on her bedroom door. He would walk in as though nothing were wrong and she would envelope him in her nimble arms, even though he was far taller than she.

Then he would break. He would bawl his eyes out and she would rub soothing circles on his back and stroke his hair. They would stay there for hours, or sometimes only minutes, or occasionally the whole night.

She had loved her osellë as though she was her own blood, but she could not forgive her for turning her strong, fearless brother into a heartbroken, emotional _mess._

Her brother turned cold to everyone but his nésa after he lost his love.

After a time, with much patience and gentle nudging, Prince Turukáno, his dear friend along with his own otorno managed to draw him out of his shell, almost back to his old self.

Of course their father thought this lack of emotion was _strength_ and he relished it. Soon his son was back in his good books now that his 'scandalous affair' had ended.

And then the dark days came, and everything happened so quickly. Before she knew it she found herself being the sole member of their house to opt to remain.

She was _disowned_ as a result. Not that she cared about her family anyway. Except for her hanno...

_Oh brother where art thou!_

sSsSsSssSsSssSSSssSsSsSsSsSsS

As the crowds cheered and applauded, pride swelled in the chest of each and every hunter.

Siofra and Kyelaeron could not conceal their awe and childlike wonder at the city. So many buildings! Beautiful artworks! So many people! Paved, straight paths! No trees!

Siofra felt _extremely_ relieved and grateful to whatever force of nature or Vala or even Eru, that made her notice the little scut who ran in front of her in time to prevent an accident, so distracted she was with all the new sights and nooks and crannies Tirion had to offer.

And then she saw _her._

Siofra blinked away her slight disorientation after locking eyes with the red haired nís. _Why does she seem familiar?_

'And of course Anya, always striving for the spotlight, decides to run over an _innocent_ little child'. Aranya was no sooner back on her faithful but spooked steed before Kyelaeron's teasing began concerning her _little incident._

She rolled her eyes. 'Firstly, as you could see the child ran in front of me, then I saved the child, who was far from innocent judging by the mischief I saw in his eyes, and lastly, DO NOT start with the 'striving for the spotlight', oh mighty attention-seeking Lord of the dance!'

'Ha, you have to admit Kye, she got you there!' Tyeliër chipped in.

'Excuse me!, I do not 'seek the spotlight', I just happen to _enjoy_ dancing, and can do it _well._ I did not ask Vána to put me centre stage at our performance, and need I remind you that _Siofra_ here is going to be on show _just_ as much as me!'

'Say what you want Kyelaeron, we all know deep down you desire to be the star of the show!' Mára spoke this time.

'NOT TRUE!' Kyelaeron gaped as he spoke. He glanced behind him and spoke 'Kandāra, back me up.'

'In all my long years', Kandāra began, 'never have I seen a ner so adamant to outshine the stars themselves!' She gave him a wry grin, full of mockery.

The other three elves burst into laughter.

_Ai Varda! They know exactly how to rise me,_ the unfortunate dancer sighed. 

Kyelaeron 'hmmphed' and decided to play along 'You will all be sorry when I rise to fame and refuse to even look at such _rude_ bullies as all four of you!' he stated in an overdramatic tone. 

They all laughed again, this time Kyelaeron joined them. 

_Silence! Do you not see that we are **in front** of the **Noldo King** and **Royals!**_ Vána all but shouted in their heads. 

Immediately, they straightened up and took in the scene in front of them, fearing their Lady's wrath. 

Siofra gazed up at the platform on which the sat King she had heard so much about the past few weeks. _So that is Arafinwë_ she thought. 

She tried to recall what Vána had told them about the Royals in her recent lessons. _His wife is...Anaire? I am sure there was an Anaire! Is that the Queen?_

_The golden-blonde nís, the fanciest one, is the Dowager Queen. She was wife to Finwë...her name is... ahh...oh wait there was two wives! I am going to guess this one is Míriel._

__

__

Arafinwë is the brother of Fëanaro and Nolofinwë, the princes who led their people across the sea and ice. 

_One of the two created the gems... the Silmarils? Which one was it again? Nolofinwë I think... Fëanaro is the Atar of Tyelkormo, I doubt he was a smith._

Lost in her musings, she did not notice Kyelaeron discreetly hide his smirk. 

He had accidentally overheard Siofra's inner monologues through their bond. He did not know whether he should laugh or whack his head against his horse. _Oh Anya, I sincerely hope there is no history challenge in the Aráto Games... for your sake!_

_sSsSsSSsSssSsSssSssSSSSsSs_

__Valinor First Age 1..._ _

_'Please brother! Stay with me! You know this is a fool's quest! The Valar condemn it! Not even you are strong enough to defeat Morgoth without their aid!'_

**'SILENCE!** You are a **PATHETIC** excuse for a daughter! If you do not wish to lose your brother, then you would come with us. Nay, **YOU** are merely jealous of the fact that your brother exceeds you at **_everything_** in my eyes!' 

_She lost her cool._

**'YOU HAVE LESS SANITY THAN CURUFINWË FËANARO! YOU ARE A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A FATHER! YOU DISOWN ME? I WAS NEVER YOUR CHILD TO BEGIN WITH, FOR I NEVER KNEW ANY PARENTAL LOVE FROM YOU! I RECIEVED IT FROM MY BIG BROTHER, WHO YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO CALL 'SON'. YOU THINK YOU ARE POWERFUL, STRONG? YOU ARE NOTHING WITHOUT YOUR SON BESIDE YOU! MAY YOU FALL TO A FOE HE CAN DEFEAT THREE TIMES OVER!' ******

Her words made him _flinch._

'Enough!' two heads turned towards the speaker. 'Atar, allow me to say farewell to my sister, then I will follow you wherever our Lord leads us.' 

Her father opened his mouth to protest but the sharp glare his son gave him ensured he merely nodded and spun on his heel, striding away to something more important than her. 

Now that they were alone, she found herself yet again pulled into her hanno's embrace, but this time it was _him_ who soothed her, while _she_ fell to pieces in his arms. 

Gone was the aura of hearbreak and grief, in its place was sheer, fierce brotherly protectiveness. 

Memories of her when she was a little girl flooded into her mind. She remembered crying at something that now seemed silly or unimportant, but back then meant the world to her. _Her_ big brother would scoop her up into his strong, protective arms and he would wipe her cheeks and hum the Water Song beneath his breath, and find little ways to make her smile, then giggle and then laugh out loud until she forgot whatever upset her in the first place. 

Now however, nothing he could do would cheer her up...unless he stayed. 

_Please_ Hanno! You are smarter than this! you know it is hopeless! 

'I know there will be danger, yes, but nothing scares me anymore...I have nothing to lose...' 

'You lose...me...' her voice shook and was barely audible. 

His eyes seemed to sting, for he momentarily closed them and sighed. When he opened them, they were suspiciously shining and wet. 

'Not a day will go by where I do not think of you Vayelya, not a day where I will not miss you, or wish you were by my side.' He stated full of sorrow. 

His resolve hardened however and he continued. 'But I cannot stay here. You see me every evening Vayelya. My life is upside down. I am an emotional wreck. Almost _everywhere_ brings back some uncalled for memory of...' 

He didn't finish, his voice was too unsteady for comfort. 

'My fëa will never be at peace here. I need a fresh start, somewhere that holds no sentimental value of she who is no longer mine. I need to _move on,_ but that is impossible to accomplish here.' 

' And... I would be dishonest if I did not admit I also leave for Atar's sake. I know you never knew his old self, the ner he was before Ammë passed, but he was loving and kind and protective and _nothing_ like the insane monster I fear he has become.' 

'I know he does not deserve my worry or concern, but I cannot just leave him alone to embark on a dangerous quest. I have some control over his rash persona, and that fine line may just ensure his survival.' 

'Oh brother!... you are so loyal and loving and yet so _stupid!_ Your heart is too big for your own good! But if you insist so on leaving, then **I am coming with you!'**

He planted a kiss on her forehead 'You are the best sister anyone could ask for, Valelya, and it is _you_ who has too big of a heart. I hope you have it in you to forgive me.' 

'Forgive you...for what?' she could not hide the unease and slight worry in her voice. Something did not feel right... 

'I will miss you everyday. I want you to accompany me, do not get me wrong. But I cannot put you in danger, allow you to risk your life simply for my sake. I love you nésa. **_Forgive me Valelya, please.'_**

...She stared at him, confused, his words made her groggy and disorientated. 

She focused on his silver eyes. Everything else seemed to blur... 

The she heard his voice, melodic but seemingly far away. 

'I drugged your tea'. 

She knew what that meant! _No! **STOP FALLING ASLEEP!**_ She desperately fought the drowsiness that came over her. **_NO NO NO! THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!_**

As she unwillingly fell into deep unconsciousness, she vaguely recalled her brother gracefully catching her before she fell, and lifting her, as if it was a dance. 

She woke up a month later. 

Someone reluctantly delivered the news to her that Fëanaro, upon reaching Arda had burned the ships, and Nolofinwë, being too stubborn to give in, had led his followers across the **Helcaraxë!**

There was no news to say whether they made it or not. 

She **screamed,** and _thrashed,_ tears streamed down her cheeks she raged and **cursed** him! It was **NOT** his decision to make! 

As the long years passed, she _eventually_ forgave him. Oh how she wished he was with her today. He loved the Aráto games, he even made it to the final the year he competed. 

>With the rest of her house gone, she left her old life of a noble lady, selling whatever meaningless family trinkets were left behind to help her set up her own workshop and store, where she expertly crafted and sold musical instruments. 

How she wished her brother could see her now. She knew he would be proud. He was never not proud if her, and visa versa. 

It was he who taught her everything she knew about music... 

As she transitioned from upper to middle class, she learned a lot she had not known before about the working class. 

They knew _everything_ the classes above them were up to. 

She was never one to gossip much herself, but she found herself fascinated at the stories some were able to recount to her about events that occurred _within_ her own family that she had naively believed, until now, to be private affairs. 

In turn, she laughed at the ridiculous rumors some cited to her, as far from the truth as possible. 

And so, the amount of tales she received grew and grew as she was knowingly used as a _tool_ to verify if a story was true or not. 

Not that she minded in the slightest. She made many good friends and acquaintances and she had to admit that hearing the folklore and old wives tales about the world she once lived in delighted and distracted her to no end. 

Then one day her world was flipped upside down by a certain myth that made her way to her music shop. 

And so she stood here now on the streets, searching the crowd for her nephew, a diamond in the rough. 

sSSSSsssSSSsSSSss 

Arafinwë bowed regally to Oromë and Vána as they presented their hunters to him. The hunters in turn dismounted their horses and bowed to him, albeit a little sloppily, compared to the warriors. 

His attention was drawn to the silver-blonde nís he had witnessed heroically rescuing a mischievous child. 

He could not feel more thankful for her quick thinking. The last thing his people needed was another accident or tragedy. 

He briefly glanced at his wife, Eärwen, who occupied much of his thoughts. 

These days, she was a shell of her former self. They had all suffered, but his wife was torn in two. 

Of course she missed their children, prayed for their health and eventual return, but he felt it through their bond an anger, deep resentment at the fact that they, along with his brothers, sister, and nieces and nephews, had participated in the brutal attack on _her people...her brothers..._

_All those she loved who now dwell in the Halls, slain by those she loved who are doomed across the sea..._

He had been there for her, though she pushed him away at first, he being the only one there for her to release her anger on. 

He never left her side however, living by the oath he had sworn to her the day they were wed. 

Eventually, she got over her grief, not completely, but enough to resume her duties, enough to indulge in a _little_ happiness once in a while, enough to allow herself to give in to her husbands embrace as his loving arms held her and eased her pain ever so slightly. 

Arafinwë was thankful their union was again strong, he could not cope without his beloved after losing so much. 

This sentiment alone made him pity and feel responsible over his law-sisters. Nerdanel had disappeared off the face of the earth until today, and while he wished she had accepted his invitation, if only for him to reassure himself she was coping, he was glad she had come out at all. 

His eyes strayed further across the platform, to his other law-sister. 

She was currently piercing each hunter with her unforgiving glare. 

It is as if nothing changed. 

However, Arafinwë was wise, and he knew her scowl was a mask, a mask to hide the pain and despair one could see if they looked long enough. 

Her judgemental and almost spiteful game was a mere _distraction_ from the fact that her husband, sons and daughter had _left her._

He watched, tragically amused as some hunters flinched from her gaze, some merely averted their eyes, some feigned indifference. 

As he began to utter his formal welcome speech, he noticed the same blonde nís catch eyes with Anairë. 

Curious, he discreetly slid his eyes towards her, wondering how she might respond. 

He almost laughed mid-speech at her reaction. 

She _smirked and winked!_

_She seems familiar..._ He heard Eärwen mutter to him in Osanwë, while he talked. _Her poise, confidence and demeanour, as well as the aura of freedom that surrounds her remind me of..._

_TURCAFINWË!_ Arafinwë eagerly guessed, knowing he was right. 

_What..? No my love!... well now that you say it her physical appearance is VERY similar to Turcafinwë._

_Who did she remind you of initially?_ Arafinwë asked, puzzled. Who else could this mystery nís possibly resemble that they knew? 

Eärwen looked slightly sheepish, perhaps she felt that the person she compared the nís to was nowhere near as close in appearance as the nís was to the third son of Fëanaro? 

Nevertheless, she answered... 

_Írissë._

SSSsSSSssssSsSSsSsSSsSSSsSsssSs 

_Tirion, First Age 455_

An old ner, she could tell by his eyes he had seen the hither shores, made his way to her shop wishing to purchase a flute. 

He studied her face for some time. 'I know you...' 

'Do you now?' She smirked, he probably recognised her from the times she would be strutting through the streets in her fabulous gowns and jewellery, chaperoned by either her brother or latest courtier, keeping up appearances. 

_The last thing he would expect is for me to be here, in a simple work tunic and leggings, carving him a flute._

It was like he read her mind however. 

'Oh you can wear the _most shabby_ garments you wish dear, you can mingle with the _working_ class, act as _unladylike_ as possible, but you cannot disguise a diamond as a piece of coal and expect _everyone_ to be fooled. _I_ know who you are.' He grinned, wisdom seeping from his words. 

She was taken aback. Her mouth slightly opened and she simply stared at him for a brief moment, before she burst into hearty laughter. Her client joined her. 

'You knew of my family?' she exclaimed. 'Ah, if so I presume you chose my workshop because you recall the sweet silver melodies of my brother!' 

'Yes I remember the days when your brother and his partner were living the golden life. Shame how it ended.' 

'Aye' she sighed. 'I will never understand why she left him the way she did, so abruptly, when things seemed to be perfect.' 

His eyes narrowed, his cheerfulness all but vanishing. She looked at him confused, perplexed at his mood swing. 

'My Eru' he gasped. 'You don't know...' 

Now she was truly bewildered. What could she possibly not know about her own brother? 

'Know what?' she voiced, expression betraying her confusion. 

'You did not hear the rumors...of course! Your Atar would have made sure that both of you did not hear _anything!'_ He was now mumbling to himself. 

Her head told her that she should not heed the ner. He was _very_ old, and she knew all too well just because something was rumored, by no means did that mean it was true. 

But her heart begged her to listen to what he had to say, and oh how she clung to any words and stories people told her of her hanno. _What did her Atar have to hide from them?_

'What rumors! I beg you sir, please tell me what you know!' She pleaded desperately. 

Two dark timeless eyes looked directly into her silver ones. 'Silver eyes, yes, your eyes are the _ **exact**_ same.' 

_Same as who? My brother? I know that! What am I doing listening to this ner! He is crazy!_

'I am not as mad as you think dear!' _HOW DOES HE KEEP READING MY MIND!_ she shuddered. 

He continued. 'Your eyes are the same as the child I saw in the wild woods many years ago, firstly as a babe with his mother, watched over by Nessa, and then as a young boy under Oromë's tutelage.' 

'His complexion and colouring he received from his mother, he was as Avarin as I am, though perhaps not quite as dark, given his mixed heritage.' 

'But he was every bit his father's son, there is no doubt about it. The tall, strong but slim stature, the handsome facial features, the eyes. He fought with a sword. I even saw him play the flute.' 

Her eyes widened as she began to comprehend what he was implying. _No...impossible._

'I suppose it did not reach the ears of the sheltered nobility such as yourself. But this story spread among Tirion's lower classes like wildfire in its day.' 

'A month after your brother and law-sister were wed in secret, your Atar decided he had enough. He wanted the _'disgraceful'_ Avarin nís OUT of his sons life. He planned to _eliminate_ her. 

She wanted to retch at this statement... No... her once dearest friend was **murdered?** No! if she was murdered the child would not exist! 

'He ambushed her as she walked the streets of the city. Oh it was all too easy, she had always been one to stray on her walks, to tread the quieter streets. Before she knew it she was pinned against a wall in a lonesome alleyway, no one around to hear her scream. His forearm pressed against her throat.' 

'Your Atar knew she was capable of defending herself, and perhaps this is why he attacked while she was unaware of the threat. He did not wish to hesitate with the kill, drag it out longer than it had to be, doing so increased the risk of him getting caught.' 

'He was wary of her movements as he unsheathed his dagger, knowing all too well the Avari _always_ had a trick up their sleeve when it came to disarming an opponent.' 

'And he was stunned when she did not make a single move to fight him off.' 

'All she did was protectively wrap her arms around her stomach.' 

'His hand shook as he held the dagger mere inches from her heart. All she did was stare at him, eyes full of fear, but not for herself.' 

' 'Does my son know?' He questionly glanced at her abdomen, calm, composed, as if he didn't hold her life in his hands. She defiantly stared back at him, in silence.' 

'To her horror he moved the dagger, so that it was pressed against the slight gap where her arms touched each other, threatening her baby more than before. **'DOES MY SON KNOW? ANSWER ME YOU WHORE!'** ' 

'Apparently she had just visited the healer, who had informed her she was expecting. She was making her way to your home to give her husband and you the good news.' 

'She truthfully shook her head, too afraid to speak.' 

'By the grace of Varda he let the dagger drop to the ground, mad and loathsome as he was, even he did not possess the hatred to _kill_ his unborn grandchild in cold blood.' 

'He _spat_ at her. He hissed,'You have _one_ day. Leave and _never_ come back, never dare so much as speak to my son or daughter again. I will not show mercy next time, be you with child or not. You owe your child a life debt.' ' 

'And he flung her against the pavement, storming away.' 

'She was stunned and speechless for a time, before she burst into tears. Tears of relief, of rage, of grief, of thankfulness' 

'How her life had completely transformed **twice** in a mere hour!' 

'She cried for her lover, whose heart she would have to break to ensure the safety of their son, for how could she risk something so precious? She knew he would want to keep his child safe at all costs also.' 

'She cried for her babe. He had saved her life! As well as his own. But he would never know his own father.' 

'She cried in pure rage and hatred at your atar. How could someone be so heartless? How could he have threatened her life simply because she loved his son? It was so, so unfair. 

'And she cried for you. For she would also lose her dearest friend, her osellë. A bond that was as important to her as the bond she shared with your brother' 

'All of her dreams had been broken, save one.' 

'And I believe you know how the rest of the story goes, dear. She hastily dropped a letter at your home, saying her farewell and she fled.' 

'I believe she dwelt alone in the woods for a time, where she chanced upon Nessa, who pitied her and took her in. She helped her through the childbirth, assisted her with the babe, until she was ready to embark to the woods on her own, along with her son.' 

The ner finished his tale, sorrow in his eyes. 

Vayelya collapsed onto her chair, panting from the intense rumour she had just heard, deep down knowing it was true. She did not know what was worse. What she had believed had transpired, or what the ner had just told her. Her heart pounded against her chest. She held her head in her hands. 

Suddenly, a thought raced across her mind. She sprang up. 'Does that mean my nephew and osellë still dwell in the woods to this day?!' She did not dare to hope. 'Do not tell me they too left these shores!' 

The ner once again looked on her with a mournful gaze. 'I am afraid that when the skies darkened, your law-sister, fearing for her true love, left the child in the care of Oromë and went to find your brother. There has been no word of what happened to her since.' 

_WHY DID SHE LEAVE! AI! If they had both stayed they could be together, they could have raised their son, Atar would be across the sea! If only she had somehow told my brother what had happened, then again how can one risk their childs life like so?_

'Do not dwell on the past, on the 'What ifs?' and 'If onlys!' The fact the child is alive is a miracle, the fact that your father stayed his hand that fateful day. Perhaps your brother and law-sister have met on the hither shores and re-kindled their bond. Perhaps someday she will be reunited with and he will be introduced to their son.' 

She was now pacing the floor. This was too much, too much new information all at once! 

For years she had wondered what had happened that caused her osellë to leave so suddenly, but now? Did part of her wish she never knew? No! For her nephews sake. _Her nephew..._ Ai Valar what was she going to do about her nephew! He was probably a grown ner by now! How had people known this information!? Was she truly so oblivious to the world around her. 

The hatred she held towards her father intensified tenfold. He held ** _a knife_** to a pregnant nis's **_stomach?_** <

Oh... if her brother had known that, he would have sold his Atar's soul to Morgoth. 

'I see I have given you much to ponder on, I wish it did not have to be me to break the news to you so many years later, but I cannot say I am not glad you _finally_ realise the truth.I do not think my flute will be ready today after all! My fault I guess! I will collect it next week! Goodbye my **_Lady!_** ' 

He bowed and gracefully stolled out the door, yet again leaving her speechless... 

sSSSsssSsSSsSssSSSs 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

And so here she was, fifty years later, sifting through each participant of the games for a pair of eyes like hers, a face like her brother's, complexion like her osellë's. 

Currently she could not _see_. The hunter's were greeting to the king. Their backs were facing her. 

She did not miss the sidelong glance Vana threw at a few. They had been laughing so much they did not realise _who_ was in front of them. 

_That sounds exactly like something my brother would have done. Hmmm..._

This thought narrowed her search. She gazed in the direction Vana had just glared, making her way through each back, anything to find a possible candidate. 

_No, that is a nís,...no, he is not Avarin,...no, hair is too light... no, definately not a heap of silvery blonde curls!... wait... **There!**_

That had to be him! He had the _exact_ poise of her brother! His skin was dark, but lighter than most Avari. He was tall and muscular _... please turn around!_

The kings speech seemed to drag on _FOREVER!_ She completely lost whatever little patience she had gained in her years. She just wanted to see _him!_

_FINALLY_ King Arafinwë concluded his welcome, and the hunters and warriors prepared to leave. To her great annoyance, the warriors dispersed first. 

And then her breath caught in her throat. 

She was staring at _her brother._

If it wasn't for his colouring she would have been fooled. The sharp jawline, the prominent cheekbones and the eyes. _Ai Valar! I am going to pass out._

Even greater was her shock when the host passed by the _exact_ spot she stood. She was within arms reach of her long-lost relative. 

She did not miss the flute that hung from his belt, nor the sword. Her chest swelled with pride. 

He had the leathers and guise of a hunter, but the Lordly air about him could not be denied. 

_You cannot disguise a diamond as a piece of coal and expect everyone to be fooled, Oromë..._ she muttered to herself. 

He did not see her, He was too busy teasing and laughing with all those around him. 

SSSSsssSsSSsSssSSSs 

_The Void, where time is irrelevant..._

There was _nothing._ Only darkness. 

It was cold, but he could not remember what cold was. 

All he knew was torturous existence devoid of meaning, feeling and even the slightest sliver of knowledge. 

If he was living, he would have gone _insane._

He did not know how long exactly he dwelt here, only that time did not seem to exist, for _nothing_ ever changed. 

He knew _nothing._ He could think yes, but any memories he had were gone. His mind was as empty as the endless space in front of him. 

_Any chance I have to get out of here, I will grab and not let go!_

_As if that would ever happen..._

And so he continued _existing,_ or did he even exist? He had to if he could think. 

_He floated on through the darkest darkness._

If he had a heart it would be full of misery and despair. 

But he did not. 

He had _nothing._

_Nothing but empty thoughts..._

sSSssSSsssssSSSsSsSSsSsSsSSsssSs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Turcafinwë- Father name of Celegorm- 'Strong/powerful Finwë'
> 
> Hanno- brother
> 
> Nésa- sister
> 
> Vayelya- A combination of _Vaya_ which means 'sea' and _lelya_ which translates as 'delicate beauty' even though she is NOT delicate by any means! 'Sea-beauty' is what I translate her name as.
> 
> sSsSsSsSsssSSsSsSSssSsSsSSS
> 
> Chapter Five is done! I hope you all enjoyed it. I know it got very tense/morbid in parts but hopefully Siofra's terribly drawn royal family tree was actually half funny enough to distract you from the melancholy!
> 
> Siofra and her history is me and maths. Wow I must seem so dumb to Kyelaeron/mathematical friends.
> 
> New Character! What do you think of Valyela? Personally, I think she would be that cool auntie who doesnt give a fu*k in todays world.
> 
> There must be an AU where Nerdanel drugged her husband and sons with that magic tea and everyone lived happily ever after!
> 
> Nevertheless, Valyela has found Kyelaeron. Is she going to make sure she meets him? Or is she simply happy just to see he is safe/happy?
> 
> Who else _hates_ Kyelaeron's grandfather more than Morgoth?
> 
> I know it seems that the ancient ner knew WAY too much and far too much detail, but when people spread stories they do add extra details and make them even more dramatic, and while I am not saying the ner exaggerated what happened to Kyelaeron's mother, it is possible that his version was not 100% accurate, becaue how could he actually know what happened if he was not there?
> 
> As for him making the connection when he glimpsed Kyelaeron while on his travels, well with age comes wisdom, and this ner did not miss a trick.
> 
> I realise the scene in the alleyway with Kyelaeron's mother and grandfather was very disturbing and dark. I understand this can be uncomfortable to read, but there needed to be a VERY GOOD reason for Kyelaeron's mother to leave his father.
> 
> The Easter Eggs do not stop as to who the father is.
> 
> Arafinwë is such a good guy. I love how he got way too excited about his guess of Turcafinwë.
> 
> Eärwen is the first person to finally see a bit of Írissë in Siofra. What did Anairë think I wonder? Or was she too busy being a bitc..*cough*sorry I mean too busy with her 'royal duties'. *cough*
> 
> I have a lot of respect for Eärwen, is it safe to say of all the relatives that got ditched in Aman she suffered most? Well thats debatabale because I guess not everyone hated her kids like they hated the sons of Fëanor, BUT, I mean, not only did she lose her children, but her in-laws and...maybe her children...KILLED her brothers and so many of her people. At least she has Arafinwë though, bless him what a lamb!
> 
> And cliffhanger... just who got themselves trapped in the everlasting darkness I wonder? HMMM? Whoever it was I Pityo them.
> 
> (I am so sorry I will just leave now and go vomit from the sheer cringe of my own pun...come back for chapter 6!)
> 
> Please comment!
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	6. Love will always be a Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain talented Fëanorion has a nice conversation with the horses.Siofra and Kyelaeron explore the city. Anaire reflects her relationship with her daughter. Someone who has found themselves trapped in the Void remembers a slight sliver of his past. 
> 
> Welcome back everyone. Thank you all for reading the story so far. Please be warned, there is a mildly sexual scene in this chapter, but nothing too explicit, well by my standards anyway. Enjoy!

_Tirion, Y.T..._

_'SSSHHHH!...it is alright girl, everything is fine.. they just got excited when they saw you...you are such a pretty mare!'_

Slowly, the young, nervous steed gently nudged her head against his outstretched palm.

 _She is a timid one..._ he mused... _gently does it._

_'It is normal to feel afraid or spooked, it is your first time to partake in such a large occasion and face such a noisy and busy crowd. You were very brave, even though you were fearful you did not fail in your task of safely carrying your rider around the city._

_'You did not falter, despite your discomfort, until the show had ended and you were in the safety of the stables. That takes great strength.'_

Surprised at such a compliment, she let out a whinny and pushed herself head first onto his bare chest. He laughed, returning the hug and stroking her glossy dark mane.

_'I promise you no harm will come to you in the city. Elves just seem to go a bit crazy whenever the Aráto Games take place.'_

She shook her head in agreement.

He took out a bit of spare grain that happened to be in his pocket and fed it to the filly. She snorted her thanks.

_'Now I want you to promise me you will not misbehave, and that you will make sure you keep your rider safe. I will personally see to it that there is nothing that might spook you on the streets. You just have to ignore the noise... can you do that? For me?'_

She neighed proudly and shook her head, her mane twirling around her. She spoke for the first time. _'Yes I can do it. I do not fear the crowds anymore! I will make sure my master is safe.'_

 _'He is not your master!'_ he replied a little too quickly. _'He is your friend. He will understand if you do not wish to face the chaotic streets again'...And if he does not he will have me to deal with..._

She neighed proudly and shook her head, her mane twirling around her. _'No, I wish to stay with my mas...friend and assist him as he partakes in the Games. He is very kind, although sad.'_

He quirked an eyebrow at this statement but let it go.

_'As you wish Madam, I will bid you farwell for tonight. May I ask what is your name?'_

She snorted and neighed loudly, as if amused by the charming title he bestowed upon her. _'I am called Kantellë, Your Highness.'_

_'Please, call me Tyelkormo'._

_'Good night Tyelkormo!'_

'Good night Kantellë!' he whispered out loud as he closed the door of the pin the young filly slept.

'You know her name?' The warrior who had asked for his help questioned. Said ner had been pacing the stable, clear worry on his face for his loyal steed.

'Aye, she told me' Tyelkormo answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The warrior's eyes widened 'I heard tales that you possessed the ability to converse with animals, but I am ashamed to say I believed it to be utter nonsense until now, your Highness.' The ner replied.

'You may call me Turcafinwë, if you wish' he answered. He made himself busy, checking in on the other horses and bidding some goodnight. 'Your mare is very fond of you, she said you were very kind to her.'

'Really?' He sounded surprised again. 'I loath to admit it, but in recent times I have not given her as much attention and affection as I used to...I have been... distracted...' His eyes betrayed his emotions for only a brief moment, but Tyelko did not miss the deep sorrow in his gaze

Under normal circumstances, if someone had the foolhardiness to confess they had not been taking enough care of their animal in front of Tyelkormo, he would make sure he scared the absolute Eru out of them until they changed their ways.

Something about this ner was different though.

Pity stayed his tongue, he could read this warrior as well as he could read any creature, and Tyelkormo's instincts told him that this ner was deeply hurt, perhaps broken, underneath his friendly but weary face.

Also, it was not as if he was neglecting or failing to care for his horse, Kantellë's coat shone bright and she had a healthy, strong build. Kantellë had said so herself that her owner was kind.

The warrior looked distant, lost in memory. Tyelkormo did not know what to say. Never before was he in a situation where he had to show compassion.

'She still loves you, and she does not blame you one bit' Tyelkormo finally broke the awkward silence. Well, awkward for him, the warrior seemed to not notice, still lost in thought.

'I wish that were true', he hoarsely whispered.

 _What?...What is he talking about? He does realise I am talking about the mare right? Is he even talking to me ?_ Tyelkormo remembered why he was not fond of meeting new people. Animals he could understand easy but people... they were so strange!

Then, suddenly,as if wakening from a slumber, the ner shook his head, eyes widening yet again as he remembered just who he was in the presence of.

'Your Highness, I am sorry I do not...'

'It is fine, no harm done' Tyelkormo replied before the warrior could finish his apology.

'Thank you so much for your aid, I do not know what I would have done if you were not here to calm poor Kantellë down!

Truth be told Tyelkormo was very reluctant to help at first. He disliked the warriors, he found them snobbish and their imagined superiority agitated him to no end.

The fact that most of them were in pursuit of Írissë's hand in marriage did not make it any easier for Tyelko to like them either. In fact, the thought made him nauseous with anxiety deep in the pits of his stomach.

_I hope this one is not a suitor, I am certain he is a Lord, he has that air about him._

But, today Tyelko had cast his biased opinion of Tulkas' followers aside. This particular warrior had approached him so humble and with genuine concern for his mare that Tyelko could not find it within him to refuse. Besides, any excuse to make a new friend Tyelkormo seized enthuasiastically (by friend he meant the horse).

It also was convenient that the ner called for his help, the _very moment_ he and Írissë were about to run into Nolofinwë, Anaire and their sons. They were not pleased with the events of the Welcoming Parade, and Tyelkormo could not help but suspect that much of the blame would be placed on him.

_Írissë is going to kill me for abandoning her like that... But I would much rather face her wrath alone than the wrath of her parents and brothers combined!_

Tyelko shook his head as he ended his musings and uttered a response to the warrior.

'Actually you did me a favor also. Your timing was impeccable, I must commend you, for you called for me just as Írissë and I were about to run into Nolofinwë and his wife and sons, who no doubt are already planning where to hide my body after they hang me for alienating their daughter and sister!

The warrior now laughed, and his voice was melodic and silver _..reminds me of Makalaurë..._ 'I have known Princess Írissë since she was a little girl, for I am close friends with Turukáno. Believe me, once she has her mind set to achieve something, not Eru Ilúvatar himself could stop her. No one alive could alienate her, no matter how hard they try. You were wise not to try to talk her out of it, as she would have retaliated by finding a way to get you into even more trouble!

'I do believe that is the first time I have been described as wise, and possibly the last! Tyelko exclaimed, as he tried to push down and smoother the suspicions and envy that were swiftly rising in his chest.

_What is wrong with me! This is madness! It is perfectly fine for a ner to know a nís and to be friendly! It does not mean anything...Why am I so paranoid? Ugh, it definitely has to do with those suitors, they are messing with my head!_

His visage must have betrayed his emotion, for the warrior laughed again before speaking .

'I have seen that look a million times on Turukáno whenever a suitor comes to the palace looking for his sister and...when she is away with you...The look of brotherly protectiveness. I know how you feel, I have a little sister also. I swear I am not a suitor, although Lady Anaire seems to have different ideas. I promise you I have no feelings towards Princess Írissë, my heart belongs to another...'

Tyelkormo could not help but release a breath he did not know he had been holding.

He snorted _...Well at least I fooled someone that what I feel is brotherly love and nothing more..._

The warrior continued 'Turukáno is my friend, but I am on Princess Írissë's side. Some níssi are born wild, bold adventurous and free and who are we to stop them?'

Tyelkormo had to admit, he was growing fond of this ner who looked after his horse, had basic manners, was not after his cousin/osellë/lover, was wild enough to compete in the games and shared his view on freedom, that it was for everyone.

'It is good to know someone in Tirion shares our views.' Tyelkormo replied.

'More than one! I am sure my fiesty nésa would agree with you, as would my own wild, beautiful..M..Mel...da.' A blank mask perfectly concealed the warrior's slip of the tongue.

Tyelkormo was not fooled.

_So he lost his love, and it has left him broken...the wound is still fresh..hence him momentarily forgetting that anything was wrong. Poor fellow..If that happened me I fear I would not take it that well at all._

He was about to light-heartedly change the topic to something less depressing for the ner, when a throat cleared behind the two.

Standing in the doorway was another warrior, with golden vanyar hair.

His appearance alone immediately pissed Tyelkormo off. The pride in the flick of the luscious, glossy locks, the ridiculous amount of jewels embedded into his weapons and armor that ensured a fight would be ten times more difficult. Even his cheery voice annoyed Tyelkormo, for no paricular reason.

_He is definately one of the suitors..._

_People like him are the reason I dislike warriors._

_Is this what Moryo feels EVERY time he sees Findaráto, Angaráto and Aikanáro?_

Nevertheless, the new warrior bowed to him and muttered 'Your highness'. Tyelko found himself using all his willpower to politely lower his head in acknowledgement.

'Goldi-locks' then turned to face his fellow warrior. 'Otorno, we were meant to commence our spar ten minutes ago!'

_Why would a decent ner like him swear himself a brother to a peacock like that?_

'By the time you finish styling your hair for the spar, fifteen minutes will have passed, I was just leaving!'

'HMMPH! By the time you stop talking to the fish, only to proceed to play a twenty-verse war cry on that accursed flute, I could have my hair done three times!'

'You can talk to fish?'

It came out before Tyelko could stop himself. He was momentarily ecstatic at the mere possibility that someone could possess the same gift as he. He wanted to punch himself in the face for saying something that no doubt sounded naive, and knocked his reputation in front of two warriors, one who he saw himself in competition with. Or even better, he wished Carnistir to be here to do it for him, harder. Of course the warrior could not talk to fish! The two friends were merely slagging each other over some inside joke.

Of course, Goldi-locks laughed, the noise booming across the stable _...wake up all the horses I just managed to get to rest why don't you?_

The other warrior shook his head, probably knowing he would not hear the end of this for a while.

_As long as none of my brothers find out I will survive this..._

'No I cannot' the polite one replied, 'though you have proven with your talent that the concept may not be as far-fetched as I once imagined. This 'delicate golden flower' here loves to tease my house sigil and name to no end.'

'If I see a flower on the ground, I pass it by and take no heed, therefore you have nothing to tease me with over my house.' the annoying one half explained to Tyelko, half told his Otorno. 'But the difference with you is, any time you see any few droplets of water in a stone basin, you watch them as though they were the most wonderful thing you have ever seen.'

'Perhaps it is because the water eases my mind from your constant harassment, and the fish make better company!'

'Perhaps it is because you are crazy...'

The warriors waved a quick farewell to Tyelkormo as they continued their banter through the encampments.

sSsSSsSsSSsSsSsSsSSsSSSssSSssSS

_Tirion... First Age 505..._

She strolled, chin up, back straight, feet gliding the floor smoothly, elegantly, properly. The way a Lady should walk.

She wore a splendid gown, befitting for one of her status, conservative, decent, leaving _everything_ to the imagination.

She scoffed as she recalled the scene she had just witnessed, those hunters were as disrespectful and improper as they could possibly be.

At least the warriors held some amount of decency, at least they covered themselves as was only right for one presenting themselves to royalty. Even though she had not been fully impressed with them either.

She considered herself an expert in all things etiquette and proprietary.

They did make a fair attempt, but she saw the cracks in their visage. The ever so slight slouch in the odd ner or nís, the wonder in the eyes of a youth, the slight shake of the hand of one with nerves in front of majestic Arafinwë. The flinch even the most stoic, blank soldier gave when faced with her unforgiving glare.

Of course this was unacceptable for a host who were being presented to the King.

She was certain the standards had fallen since _her sons_ trained with Lord Tulkas.

Her boys were impeccable with their etiquette, living up to and beyond their titles of 'Prince.'

They had been so impressive on the field also that they had rightly earned themselves their titles of _Valiant, Wise,_ and _Vigorous._

She pushed away the tightness of pain that arose deep in her chest. Now was not the time. Ladies of her status did not show emotion in such a public place as this.

Speaking of things ladies, or anyone with half a sense if propriety were not meant to do, by Valar, the followers of Oromë were a perfect example of a _disgrace_ in her eyes.

How could they 'strut' around in such a chaotic manner? Both the neri and the níssi wearing the bare minimum of clothing! No reverence or grace as they bowed for the King!

She made sure to glare _extra_ harshly at the hunters who had the sheer audacity to laugh rudely as they faced the royalty, satisfied when they shied away from her, intimidated .

Then her gaze met _her._

 _Oh you are a bold one!_ her mind roared in disgust as the nís _winked_ at her. There were few who ever had the nerve to retaliate her glare in such stubbornness or ignorance.

Her nettë was one of them...

Her daughter was never the 'opulent, delicate, courteous princess' that many in court expected her to be. Perhaps it was a result of growing up with three brothers...and later _him_ of course.

As soon as she could walk she was off having adventures, tearing and covering her dresses in mud, wrestling with her brothers whenever they quarreled as children do.

She could never comprehend at that tender age why she would get punished for fighting too 'rough' or getting her dress soiled, while the boys would be encouraged to persevere at their outgoing activities.

As she grew older, she pleaded and begged and cried to be instructed in the warrior arts as her two older brothers had. Her father _...convinced by my harsh objections..._ had refused, although he allowed that alongside the lessons she hated such as sewing, music and literature, she could be instructed in archery. For a time she was content.

She practised every spare minute she had, much to the displeasure of her mother, as her other studies declined. But these indifferences aside, mother and daughter had a special bond. They were close as the only two females in their family.

Life was good, even if her daughter was not one hundred percent a 'perfect' princess.

Then _he_ came into her life.

Then it all fell to shambles.

There was no exact time she could pinpoint as to when she and her daughter became estranged, but through the years the two became more and more distant, more and more differences arose between them, leading to more and more rows and disagreements.

However, the loss of her nettë she always associates with the very day Crown Prince Curufinwë Fëanáro, his wife Nerdanel Istarnie and their seven _un-princely, rude, reckless, ill-tempered_ and _wild_ sons returned to make a home in Tirion after years living away from the city.

She still remembered (fondly- she loathed to admit) the biggest surprise her 'half law-brother' had for his relatives that day...

SsSSssSSsssSssSSSS

_Tirion,Y.T..._

Finwë, Indis and their four children, in-laws and grandchildren welcomed the 'golden son' and his...unusual wife and children home.

They gathered in the throne room to greet their 'half relatives'. Fëanáro and his sons strolled in. They all seemed to have inherited their Atar's intimidating demeanor, especially the youngest.

 _My goodness they have grown!..._ She mused _...especially the eldest!_

The members of the House of Finwë, the aunts and uncles and cousins and in-laws had met before, but it was a very long time ago.

Back then the youngest of the five sons was a mere babe.

Now the four eldest had come of age, the baby they had remembered was at the end of his childhood years, and apparently already his Atar's apprentice, Fëanáro had announced with pride on arrival.

In fact, he had introduced each child no small amount of an ego. They all seemed to be the _best_ at something, be it sword-fighting, music, hunting, arithmetic or smithying.

However, the absense of Fëanáro's wife did not go unnoticed to her observant eye.

 _Where is Nerdanel?..._ she wondered.

A baby's cry echoed from behind the line of Fëanorions.

It was followed by another.

Around the room eyes widened. She caught eyes with Eärwen, both of them thinking the same thing- _could it be?_

There had never been a recorded family of more than five children... _is six possible?_

_It has been a while since there was a baby in the Palace..._

She glanced at her niece and nephews and sons and daughter. The younger ones looked slightly bewildered while the older ones had the same curiosity and slight awe as she.

Nolofinwë, Lalwende and Arafinwë had the look they all shared the many times when their eldest brother did something outrageous or uncalled for and shocked them.

Findis looked suspiciously unsurprised.

Finwë's eyebrow rose in question. Indis smiled politely.

All five Fëanorions in front of her could not hide the beams of pride on their face. The middle and youngest even crossed their arms, smugly.

_Very bad posture and poise._

Fëanáro had never looked prouder than he did in that moment.

_I did not think it was possible for his head to grow larger than it already was._

'And finally, I would like you to meet the newest additions to our family...' the Crown Prince began.

There were more than a few gasps and coos as Nerdanel stepped into view, not one but two infants in her arms. _ **Twins**_ , so very rare among the elder.

_SEVEN CHILDREN!?_

Her mind could not process it.

The two could not be anymore than a few weeks old judging by their size. They were wrapped in the softest white blankets , unmistakable tufts of bright red hair standing out from the tops of their little heads.

She was not overly fond of Fëanáro, thinking him too arrogant, too dismissive of his younger siblings, especially her husband, who she knew deep down longed for his big brother's approval.

However she could not stop her heart _melting_ at the sight of the beautiful twin babies.

Fëanáro strode over to Nerdanel and gently took one of the twins from her arms, planting a soft kiss on her cheek in the process.

The two stood together. Nerdanel gently rocked the babe she held and Fëanáro looked fondly at his two youngest before raising his eyes to meet his father.

'Welcome to the family Telufinwë and Pityafinwë Ambarussa.' Fëanáro exclaimed emotionally.

She swore she heard his voice _crack._

sSSSssSSsSSsSsSSS

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

That fateful day marked the beginning of the end in her eyes.

The cousins mingled of course, and soon tight friendships were formed. And enemies for some.

Oh but how she regretted letting her daughter near those boys, especially _him. The hunter._

The one who spent much of his time away with Oromë. Who had developed alternative ideals and outlooks on society, on mannerisms and on the role of women.

Once they had reached a certain age where they had sense, her sons never sparred, taught fighting skills or trained with their sister.

They said it was _too dangerous_ , she was _not trained_ , it was _not respectable_ , she was _a princess_ , it was _not allowed_ , she had to _attend her lessons._

Turcafinwë Tyelkormo, and all of his brothers for that matter, had no such qualms.

She became the sister and daughter the House of Fëanáro lacked. She was dear to them all, surprisingly even Fëanáro had a soft spot for her.

They did not care that she was a lady or a princess because, they were lords and princes, but their titles had never prevented them from partaking in something they loved, due to their upbringing away from the Palace.

The only noble woman they had known well was there mother, who certainly did not let her gender prevent her from working and crafting and doing as she wished, free of protocol.

They did not know any different.

And so, her nettë would return from her 'dancing lessons' with bruises and scratches and dirt caked into her dresses and her face beaming, just like when she was a little girl.

It did not take long to realise she was in fact _training,_ under the tutelage of her _cousins._

Again she tried to tell her girl off, but years later it did not work as it used to.

And this time _Fëanáro_ was on her nettë's side, assuring her husband that _his sons_ were _perfectly capable teachers_ and that there was no harm in a nís being able to defend herself.

Her husband in turn sided with his half brother rather than his wife on this matter, much to her annoyance.

Her daughter gradually got wilder and fiercer and stronger and more rebellious each day.

Perhaps her mother would have been proud if she had not been so blinded by her _stupid beliefs..._

_No, you are not allowed to regret yet... only after dark when we are alone and the game ends._

As years went on her daughter and Tyelkormo would run away together to the wilds on hunting trips.

She was a full grown nís now, and no one could control her. She was the master of her fate. She was so stubborn and if told not to do something, she would go out of her way to achieve it.

_She got that from her father..._

She will never forget the Aráto Games that year... the year her daughter became one of those 'disrespectful wild hunters' and, as if to rub salt to the wound, _won_ , humiliating all the warrior suitors who had been lining up.

She could have laughed now, though back then she was _furious._

_No, ladies do not laugh... I am furious...she was a **disgrace**... I do not miss her **...I do not...**_

After what seemed an eternity, she finally reached her chambers. Duties done for the day she promptly turned the handle on her door and stepped into the too-large bedchamber she once shared with her husband.

Closing the door behind her. She allowed the facade to fall, the game to end. She slid down the wall, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. She burst into tears.

_'Írissë, I am sorry. I never realised how precious and beautiful and wild and free you were until it was too late. I miss you every day, my nettë'_

_'You should be here now, you would love watch the Games, perhaps not from the Royal box, I do not know if I could trust you not to cause trouble!'_ She whispered to the air.

She sobbed uncontrollably, needing to let it all out before morning.

_'I would give anything to have you here, half naked in those ugly, unladylike leathers, causing an uproar, embarrassing your brothers, angering your father, making me throw you the look.'_

_'I would give anything to reverse time, to not be so narrow minded and ridiculously tied to my manners.'_

_'Perhaps I would have enjoyed a ride out in the open air with you from time to time, hair loose and wind blowing in our faces.'_

_'I would give anything to appreciate what I had, when I had it, I was never content with all the blessings in my life, I did not show them enough love before they were gone.'_

_'I do not feel so bad about your father and brothers, and of course dear little Itarillë. Yes my heart aches for them, but they have memories where I loved them and was proud of them, whereas you, well I wasted so much time trying to turn you into something you were not, ignoring everything you achieved.'_

_'I do not think my love and affection would have kept you here, such is your nature to long for adventure, but at least you would know that I love you, I miss you constantly, and perhaps in the future should we ever meet again we would meet as mother and daughter, all titles and protocol and pure and utter **SHIT** aside...!'_

She trashed her fists in the air, cursing everything that left her here _alone._

Anaire cried her way to her mattress that was cold and lonely and too big. She felt so _empty._

She eventually drifted off into a light slumber, albeit uncomfortable.

Anaire had _changed._ After the flight, she had learnt all too late what was truly important in life, not appearances or manners or status, but love and family.

The thought was unbearable. She never realised how blessed she was, or where her priorities should really be, until it was too late.

So many regrets, most of all the way she treated Írissë.

The grief was too much for her to handle.

And so, she lived in ignorance every day. She _acted_ , took on an alter-ego that was scarily similar to her old self, except more extreme.

She distracted herself by playing a game in her head. She let her anger for both Nolofinwë and Fëanáro be released on the unfortunate citizens of Tirion.

She clung to her old morals and etiquette like a lifeline. She filled her head with bitter thoughts. She glared at everything and everyone, found a flaws and imperfections in anything her eyes touched to take her mind off worse things that haunted her.

This was her _escape._

She allowed herself an hour every evening to let the mask fall, the game end.

That is when she would cry and bawl and sob and whisper apologies to each of her children, for her failures in loving them like a mother, and not like a lady.

She would fall asleep, morning would break, and the games would begin again.

sSSSssSSSsSSssssS

_The Void, where time is irrelevant..._

_Cold, dark, empty, unchanging, endless, blank, unforgiving, nothing, space, torture..._

He had composed a little game in his mind to pass his exsistence, which he repeated over and over and over and over, thinking of words associated with his current predicament. For all he could _do_ was _think_... _how ironic..._

Suddenly, his mind lit up with realisation _...ah a new word!_

Such moments were as exciting as his exsistence could possibly be. Even he knew that his life or death or whatever one would call his current situation, was _very_ boring.

But the word that had made his way into his mind puzzled him...it was a _feeling_...and it _felt_ right.

_But I cannot feel here.. I have not felt anything since...I cannot remember...think! since...no...NO... **ERU HELP ME PLEASE! NO!**...AGGGGGGAAAAAHHHH! **...AAAAAHHGGGGGHHHHHHH!**_

If he had a voice he would have screamed in pure agony as he _felt_ his skin melt and stick to _...metal clothes?_..his lungs give up as they dried out and stung from _...blackness?_ No that was not the word _..black clouds?...no... **smoke!**_

He felt panaic and hoplessness and someone in his head screaming and thrashing and desperately fighting to reach him...even though both he and the voice knew it was too late.

He was astounded...had he remembered something? _...Impossible..._

_What an exciting train of thought this turned out to be._

_I felt something...I know a word that describes how I feel...It is not happy or good, but nothing in this damned place is!_

Somehow he knew this emotion was linked to whoever was trying to reach him in the _ **...ff..fire?** Yes that is the word...I **burned** in a **fire...**_

_He was screaming in my head...I felt his pain...I wanted to get out... not for myself, but for whoever the voice belonged to... for **him...**_

_And here, alone in this darkness I feel only one thing... and this new word perfectly describes how **I feel...**_

_**I feel!**_ He exclaimed, because he _could..._

_**Torn...** _

_**I feel torn...** _

_**Torn...in two...** _

sSSssSsSSsSSSsSsSss

_Tirion, Y.T..._

Tyelkormo said goodnight to all of the horses in the stables after he waved off the two.

He was about to leave when a familiar presence behind him stopped him in his tracks. He could sense they were _not pleased_ with him at all.

'Írissë', he whispered turning to face her.

The sight he beheld shocked him, never had he seen tough, fierce Írissë in tears such as these. Yes she had cried before, but it was always more out of frustration and anger than actual melancholy and sadness.

For the first time in her life she seemed _delicate_ , as if one harsh word from him would break her. Concerned, he quickly closed the space between them, enveloping her in his arms.

In response, he was harshly shoved away as she gave him a death glare.

'You _LEFT_ me to face my family _ALONE!_ ' she cried, full of rage, though he knew it was not all intended for him.

Tyelkormo felt very guilty. He should not have done that, but he did want to help Kantellë.

Also, he did not know she would be so hurt. Írissë never let her family's opinion get her so down. She might be angry for a time after, but never truly upset.

Never like this anyway.

But, another look at her grief-stricken face and any proud excuse or argument Tyelko had for himself flew out the window. He felt horrible.

_There is no one else who could ever make me let go of my pride so easily, make me so willing to repent for something that was almost completely out of my control._

_Ai! She has me worshiping the ground she stands on...and she does not even realise!_

'I am sorry, Írissë, please forgive me.' It was pathetic enough wording, but he hoped his caring and guilty tone would make her see how sorry he truly was.

She did not retaliate with words or actions _...that must be a good sign..._ she simply slid down into a sitting position against the wall, hugging her knees as she stared blankly into space.

Tyelkormo took this as an invitation to sit next to her, legs crossed, and he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

She did not lean into his touch but neither did she push him away.

They sat in silence for a time, before Írissë finally began to speak, rapidly releasing all her frustrations. Tyelkormo listened. When it came to Írissë, he was the most patient ner in the world.

'They just do not get it! They expect me to waltz around the palace all day, dressed in finery, admired by all. They wish for me to achieve nothing in particular, save maybe a respectable husband and children! To live empty days filled with idleness disguised as etiquette. To be seen not heard! How can I do that? It would destroy me!'

Sobs escaping between words, she continued her rant. 'My brothers, they say they just want me to be safe and well cared for. Such irony! They wish upon me a life they would never survive, devoid of their precious wrestling and swordplay and politics!

'My Atar simply is trying to please his father and your father, he knows that me being a huntress will not be taken well in his precious court of idiots! It hurts that he cares more what others think than he cares for his own daughter!'

'And her! Ugh that _bitch!_ I bet she wishes I was not born at all, to save her from the sheer humiliation! In fact they all do! Or maybe that I was born a boy, so I could have become a respected warrior rather than a scandalous huntress!'

Írissë full on bawled, cradling her face in her hands.

Tyelko stroked her leg tenderly, hand straying a little too high for decency. 'I for one am glad that you were not born a boy...' Tyelkormo quietly spoke, voice both humorous and lustful, attempting to cheer her up with wit and affection.

Írissë did not take his attempt at humor well however. She stood up, suddenly enraged again. Tyelkormo copied her movements and resisted the urge to shield his face with his arms.

'And what about _you_ Tyelkormo? Could I not also say that you too wish to control me? Was it not you who pushed me to join the followers of Oromë? Is it not you who always attempts to whisk me away any time a high born ner so much as _glances_ at me?'

'How do I know that you simply are not using me to satisfy your needs, to selfishly hoard me so that I will never belong to anyone but you? How do I know you are not manipulating me to your will, blinding me with all the things deep down you know I desire.

You claim you are giving me freedom? But I would not be free until I know you would allow me to walk away from you if I wished, without you retaliating by taking away all of your gifts I thought were mine? How do I know Tyelkormo? I need you to prove to me you love me for what I am, not for what I can do for you!'

Tyelkormo was stunned for a brief moment.

_What! How could she think that? All I wish is her happiness!_

_If she left me, would I let her go?_

_Of course I would! I cannot control her, no one can! That is why I love her!_

_That does not mean I would not beg her everyday to take me back! Ai I would be in worse condition that that warrior! Much worse. I admire his self control._

_But if I knew she truly did not want me, then yes of course I would release her. For she may stop loving me, but I will never stop loving her and in such a situation all there would be for me to do is set her free from me..._

_...I would never force someone to love me if it is not what they wished!... that is something a monster would do!_

_SPEAK TYELKORMO! Tell her how you feel! Or you might lose her tonight!_

_His throat went dry...how is it that of all my brothers I inherited the least amount of Atar's gift with words? What I would not give to have Curvo hiding somewhere here now, whispering what to say in my head!_

_Why does this seem more difficult than confessing my love in the first place was?..._

_...Because you knew then she loved you too, but now, there is a chance her love is fading, or that she is questioning yours._

_There is a chance it will all end if you say the wrong thing._

_...NO! I cannot let that happen...I love her too much..._

_...But I have to let her know that if that did happen, I would not try to take her freedom?..._

_...I have to let go of my pride and tell her the truth...all of it..._

Now overwhelmed with emotion, Tyelkormo finally began to speak. He looked deep into her wild eyes. 'Oh Írissë...' he began.

His voice was barely louder than a whisper. He let all of his pride fall away from his demeanor. So much so that Írissë looked shocked. She had never seen him look so _...helpless?...dependant?...desperate?...Vunerable?_...Vunerable,that was it. Tyelko looked vunerable. Tyelko _never_ looked _vunerable..._

In his eyes now there was nothing but fondness and sweet love, for her. He had let everything else; his ego, his family honour, his boastful strength- they had all slipped away.

The message was clear. He might as well have bowed at her feet.

'I love the ground you stand on. Yes, if you left me I would be distraught, I would be a wreck, an emotional mess, perhaps there would be no saving me.'

'But I would happily suffer it all if it meant that you were content. You do not belong with me Melda, I do not own you, I would never wish to control you.

'For you are wild and untameable, and that is why I love you...'

He ever so gently reached out and stroked his hand against her cheek, his breath hitching, before he continued.

'You belong in the wildest of lands, hair flowing in the wind, riding your stallion as though you could fly, mud caked onto your clothes, tied to no society or rules or law, completely and utterly free.'

His voice cracked.

_I hope she believes me, for I have never exposed myself the way I did now. I have never worn my heart on my sleeve before now..._

'Listen to me Írissë, we are going to win these games, not for pride or glory, but to prove that _you can fight_ if you wish, _you can chose_ your own path in life, and you can fight a hundred times stronger than those prissy warriors and suitors!'

He finished his 'speech', almost to afraid to look the nís he loved in the eye.

He did not know what Írissë was thinking, her expression was stunned, that could be good or bad.

She strode over to the door and firmly bolted the lock.

'You...' she breathed...'How..?' Her tears had faded, but her emotions were not betrayed by her facial expression.

Tyelko felt like jumping out the window before she could speak any fatal words of parting ways.

Therefore, it was much to his surprise when Írissë pounced on him like a cat, and pressed her lips to his deeply and tenderly. He returned the gesture with just as much passion.

Euphoria rushed through him as he realised what the kiss meant. She still loved him.

As their lips broke apart Írissë whispered,'Thank you Meldo, you have no idea how much that means to me.'

Before he knew it she had him floored on the hay, the two giving in to each others touch, making love after two long weeks of travel to Tirion.

'Too much clothes..' Írissë complained as she reached a hand down his breeches. A moan escaped his lips.

He smirked 'Only one way to solve that.' He began to undo her leathers while she worked on his breeches.

He flipped them around so that he was looking down at her, pleasing her, loving her...

...But never controlling her.

 _'Sorry my equestrian friends...nature calls!'_ Tyelkormo muttered distractedly to the horses as the two proceeded to become one.

He swore could hear them snickering to themselves...

sSsSSSSssssSSSSsSS

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

The streets were alive with merchants, citizens, tourists, performers and elflings running around in excitement and anticipation. The Games were finally here and the celebrations had certainly begun!

A nís and a ner strolled side by side through the cobbled marketplaces.

The throb in their heads was a constant reminder of said celebrations.

To one from the city, they surely must have looked stupefied, in awe, despite their persistent hangovers. Though these two elves were of age, they had the visage of a pair of excited elflings.

People rushed put to greet them, offering exotic foods, exquisite crafts and colourful fine materials- for a price.

They politely declined. One couldn't quite get her head around the concept of currency. The other was wise enough to know when he was being swindled.

After a morning spent wandering without a care in the world, the two parted ways.

The nís needed to find a smith to mend her priceless dagger, which had been a gift from someone very dear to her.

The ner was in need of a new flute. He was sure his current one was beyond repair, and he had to perform tonight for the city.

The night before had been a night they could not remember, full of dancing and singing and indulging in the festivities.

It also had been a night which resulted in waking only up to find dear sentimental items broken, with only vague recollections of _how._

_We do very stupid things when we are drunk...I mean what in the Valar were we thinking! I cannot even recall if I enjoyed destroying my priceless family heirloom!_

_Do not beat yourself up over it, your dagger is still in one piece, unlike my flute. I am sure we will laugh at this in years to come._

_I think I will laugh at this as soon as my head stops feeling like a ton of bricks and the light stops shining so blindingly!..._

_I too Osellë, as long as we are recovered enough to drink just as much again tonight._

_DO NOT mention drink to me ever again!_

The dagger had been bent very crookedly by the nís in an attempt to invent a new party game. Did her memory serve her correct when she recalled trying to chop a tree down? If so, she was glad her attempt had been unsucessful, for both her dagger's sake and for the fact that the tree (which now had many mysterious marks embedded in its bark- was that all her own handiwork?) was one of the oldest in the world, apparently older than the firstborn.

The ner reckoned his flute may have been the result of the several bruises above his right knee...had he really been stupid enough attempt to split his musical instrument off his knee in an attempt to show off his strength? Had he been so intoxicated that he succeeded?

The pounding- still there- in both of their heads answered their questions.

SsSSsssSSSsSSssSsSsssSss

Oromë was _done._

Just _finished._

With _everything._

He turned to his _scheming, meddling_...she gave him a sharp look... _ever so helpful and kind wife._

Vána rolled her eyes at him, unimpressed.

'So you mean to tell me that out of _all_ the many gifted musicians and smiths that dwell in _all_ of Tirion, you thought it would be a _wonderful_ idea to send Kyelaeron to _Vayelya_ and Siofra to _Mahtan.'_

'They did ask for the _best._ ' She smiled- too sweetly.

'Vána it is _Tirion_. It is full of artisans and craftsmen in constant competition with each other. No matter where you sent them to they would have received the highest standard of craft!'

'Yes...' Vána began.'But Valyeya and Mahtan are the _best_...and that is what they asked for.'

Oromë had to resist the urge knock his head off the wall.

'I would not be surprised if you spiked their drinks and orchestrated their little accidents yourself.'

Vána laughed, perhaps a little too much. 'A Lady never tells!'

sSsssSSSsSssSssSSss  
Translations:

nettë - daughter

Kantellë - song

sSsSSsSsSsSsSSssSs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter. And the highest word count to date.
> 
> I loved writing the dialogue between Tyelko and the horses! I feel like his true personality really shines through when one sees the care he gives to each animal. He has a soft spot for all creatures, and a certain nís as we see. I wanted to paint a picture of 'the old Tyelko' in this chapter, the cocky but endearing ner who loves to wreck havoc.
> 
> Anyone notice the slight hint towards Lúthien...guess Tyelko is a monster by even his own standards now :(
> 
> And Ai Valar! He is such a jealous boyfriend with all those suitors!
> 
> Poor Írisse just wanted to be able to do the things she loved, like her brothers and not get stopped simply because she was a girl. Fëanor and his sons were the key to her escape if you like, they never judged her for gender and treated her as an equal, which is more than she could ever have wished for with her own family. 
> 
> And yes, to anyone wondering, Írissë training and disguising it as 'dancing lessons' was a little reference to Arya Stark.
> 
> Hope the sex scene wasn't too explicit. I was wondering whether to include it or not but then I was like 'Nah just a kiss would be something a 'decent respectable' Tirion couple would do!
> 
> I wonder who the warrior who owned Kantellë was... WINK...
> 
> If you know who 'Goldi-locks' is ( if you don't then just google 'golden flower elf'- it is that obvious) I gave him this nickname because it is the actual translation of his Quenya and Sindarin name! I always thought that was hilarious and made sure to include it here!
> 
> Big reveal on Anaire! So she is living a lie to escape reality. Sounds exactly what I do except I pretend I am in the Tolkien universe! I do feel so sorry for her though, I mean yes she was horrible to her daughter but perhaps Írissë wasn't the kindest to Anaire either?In my opinion it is a typical mother-daughter relationship that took a bad turn and before things could be made right, her daughter was gone, and she was left alone.
> 
> Will she be able to let her mask slip for a certain huntress however? Hmmmm...
> 
> I hope you all liked the Ambarussa baby reveal scene. I thought Anaire's inner monologues on Fëanáro were pretty funny.
> 
> I kinda want to go cry after re-reading the everlasting darkness scene. He was trying to get out! Someone was trying to get to him! That someone was probably being held back by five pairs of hysteric arms! Both were screaming to each other in their heads! **AI ERU LET HIM OUT OF THE VOID RIGHT NOW!**
> 
> And OMG Vána seems to live to antagonise Oromë! Hahaha can't wait till Siofra and Kyelaeron reach their destinations! The question is did she spike the drinks or not?
> 
> Thank you to all who have read this story so far. Hope you keep enjoying it and see you all for chapter 7!
> 
> SiofraMarina x.


	7. Father/Brother/Uncle. Mother/Sister/Aunt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Endor, First Age 220, Tyelkormo and Írissë look after their nephew/niece and remember the times they were together,raising their daughter.
> 
> This chapter does not progress the plot. It is more a filler of the past, of the characters of Tyelkormo and Írissë and their memories, thoughts and regrets as they continue their lives in Endor. And a little bit of Curufin for good measure! Enjoy!

_Himlad, First Age 220..._

Screams echoed through the Lords quarters of the fortress. The cold stone walls seem to shake as anguished cries and bawls bounced off them.

As he paced the halls Curufin felt the ground crumble at his feet _...wh..what?_

The fifth son of Fëanor shook his head vigorously, in an attempt to wake from his hallucinations. He was _exhausted. Drained. Wrecked._ There, he admitted it, if only to himself.

He was about to slap himself in the face, just to give himself a few more minutes without his head unwillingly curling towards his chest, when he realised he could not slap himself in the face under any circumstances. His hands were not free at the moment. How could he forget?

He made to slap himself again for such uncharacteristic stupidity, making the same mistake twice in mere seconds. He felt as though he was dangerously close to losing his hard earned reputation of 'crafty'.

He could have sworn the yelling increased due to the mere slip of his hand.

He would have cursed but he was too weary.

In fact, Curufin was sure he had never been this tired before, in all his long years. He had once thought he was _tireless._ He was well used lack of sleep, his ambitious projects ensuring days, sometimes weeks, of little to no rest.

He had met his match however. This creation of his had defeated him. And yet he did not mind.

For as he gazed down at the little bundle in his arms- who was currently thrashing his little fists, howling louder than he thought possible for something so small, his face scrunched and dark pink- he felt a bond he had never felt before.

It was not the bond of companionship he shared with his brothers, even Tyelko, it was more loyal.

It was not the eroded, broken bond he felt each time he remembered his Ammë, it was more heartbreaking.

Though essentially the same, it was not the close father-son bond he felt for..A...A..At..Fëanáro. He held far more adoration and awe for this little babe in his arms.

It was not the same as the bond of love he shared with his wife. Dare he say it was stronger.

His son, Ai Valar his precious son he did not deserve, he loved him with a love he did not realise was possible for him to possess. He would do anything for Telperinquar, dear little Tyelepe. Suddenly, his pride, honour, values, ambition, even the damn oath and Silmarils were insignificant, meaningless compared to this baby.

This sentiment terrified him.

Tyelepe, as if noticing his Ada was lost in thought, decided that he needed to bawl louder. Curufin, although feeling as if he had gone insane from hallucination caused by lack of rest, gently rocked him, paced, hummed and begged his son to PLEASE SLEEP.

It was not as if it was the babes fault. He had a bad dose of wind in his tummy. Also he was at the stage where his baby teeth were breaking through his gums, the pain enough to make him demand constant attention from either Ada or Nana.(Curufin swore he saw fire in his sons eyes earlier as he attempted to leave him in his cot)

Nana- also exhausted - was actually meant to be on 'Tyelepe duty' tonight, but she had not awoken from her afternoon nap (most unlike her, almost as outgoing as her husband) and Curufin did not have the heart to wake her.

_Then again, if Celebrimbor's crying has not woken her I doubt I would have been able to...I am surprised the whole fortress is not awake..._

'SSHHHH Tyelepe it is alright, sssshh now do not wake Nana, I do not want her tired for her patrol tommorow, come now won't you smile for Ada...? and maybe be quiet and sleep? For me?'

In response, Tyelepe got sick, right down the neckline of Curufin's tunic.

_For years I had to endure Kano's mellow lullabies and ballad's. Where is he when I need him?! I am sure he is the only reason my parents did not go insane from having to go through this seven times!_

He was vaguely aware of a door opening and closing behind him, he should have been on alert, perhaps prepared to unsheath his dagger, one could never be too careful in these bleak lands of Arda.

But his brain was too foggy to care.

He turned to see who the intruder was, glancing at the silhouette for a few seconds too long before recognition kicked in.

'Tyelko' he half mumbled...'did he keep you awake?' he glanced at Telperinquar.

'No' said his big brother, looking half asleep, bed-head of silvery hair as unruly as ever 'he kept _Huan_ awake, who proceeded to lie on me until I woke and told me to sort out the noise or else he will hide dead rats in your lady's shoes again.'

Curufin honestly was too tired to figure if Tyelko was being sarcastic or not.

Celegorm examined his nephew fondly for a minute, as if diagnosing the problem. 'Teeth and wind?' he glanced at Curufin, who nodded.

'Here' Celegorm outstretched his ink-covered arms 'give him to me'.

Usually, Curufin was extremely protective about how, where and who held Tyelepe. He just about trusted his wife with his son. They did not have any nurse or nanny for Tyelepe either, 'it was not how we were raised' Curvo said, though truly everyone knew it was because of his trust issues, no doubt inherited from Fëanor.

And although Tyelkormo was his closest brother, he had a certain care-free poise that under normal circumstances would have screamed **Safety Hazard** in Curvo's head.

However these were not normal circumstances, hence Telperinquar was promptly shoved into Celegorm's arms, causing him to smirk, something so rare these days.

Curufin watched in dream-like fascination as Tyelko positioned Tyelepe at _just the right angle_ , over his shoulder, he lightly bounced him while rubbing firm circles in his back, with the occasional pat.

Soon the burps came and went, and, after a few moments more of uncle Celegorm's expert skills, the wind was gone.

Tyelepe was still crying however.

Tyelko handed Curvo his son again, Curufin was ashamed to say he took him back reluctantly.

'You have to hold him so his body is slightly diagonal, put his head over your shoulder so he will not get sick on you, but on the floor' Tyelko glanced disapprovingly at his brother's soiled tunic before continuing.'You have to rub his back hard enough to get rid of the gas, it will not hurt him, I know you are rubbing too gently!' Practice there, while I show you what to do for the teeth.'

Curufin prided himself on being a fast learner, and therefore had mirrored his brother's baby-hold in seconds. Or so he thought.

Tyelepe started bawling again.

'No no no! You're holding him too far away from you! Only _slightly_ diagonal! His head is resting on nothing, no wonder he is uncomfortable!' Tyelko exasperately instructed.

 _Since when did you become such a mother hen hanno?!_ Curufin thought but dared not say aloud, for fear Tyelko would leave and he would be left with his little _bundle of sleepless nights_ again.

He finally got the position right, with Tyelko's assistance. He watched with his trademark curiosity as his brother proceeded to tear a strip of leather from the belt of his breeches. He then produced a flask- out of nowhere it seemed- and drenched the leather strip with clear liquid... was that miruvórë?

Usually he would have protested if Tyelko let his dirty leathers anywhere near his precious son, never mind the miruvórë! But he was curious, and Tyelko had proven he knew what he was doing...

_Anything to shut Tyelepe up..._

'The leather will give him something to bite on, to distract him from the pain, make his gums stronger.. Almost like a hound!' Tyelkormo explained, face lighting up the way it did when he talked about anything to do with his precious animals.

Curufin could not stop himself. 'Are you comparing my son to a _dog?'_

'My apologies Curvo you obviously have this fatherhood ordeal _well under control_ , you do not need my help, I will just be going now...' Celegorm made as if to leave.

'NO WAIT! DO NOT GO!' Curufin knew his brother was teasing, but was not willing to risk it. He was met with another smirk. _Ugh he is never going to let me live this down!_

'As I was saying before I was _rudely interrupted!_ ' Curufin rolled his eyes. 'The miruvórë will help numb the pain, and make him drowsy. It will not harm him, it is but a mere few drops. It will also ease the wind.'

Tyelepe cooed as he bit on the leather and sucked the alcohol, slowly drifting into a deep slumber. _Finally..._

'Never mind Tyelepe, I need some miruvórë RIGHT NOW! Curufin whispered harshly. Tyelko shook his head and chuckled to himself, handing him the flask.

'Go, get some rest hanno, you look terrible, and smell terrible! I will look after Tyelepe for the night. I promise you he will be fine.'

'If you of all people reckon I smell then I must be in terrible shape indeed!'.

'You better run to bed before I change my mind!'

'Hanno', Curufin began, taking a deep breath, he always found it hard to say those two words... _'Thank you.'_

'Well this is a rare honour indeed, being let hold Tyelepe and then being thanked by you!' Tyelkon grinned.'Trust me, it gets easier. Especially once the teething ends.'

'Brother where and when in the name of the Valar did you learn so much about bab...oh...'

Curufin actually slapped himself this time. That was something they DID NOT talk about, not since they left Aman! How did he even forget? He was just so physically and emotionally drained these days that he did not think! He alone of all his brothers knew why Tyelko had that extra lost look in his eyes, why his heart had turned that bit colder than the rest of them.

Tyelkormo now looked at him without his mask of Lord and Leader and proud strong hunter. The sheer pain and lonliness was emanating from his gaze hurt Curufin more than a sword ever could. Ai Valar what had the world done to him? What had it done to all of them?...They had lost so much _...Home...Ammë...A..A...Atar...and..._

And how could he ever forget _...Pityo._

_We have lost so much...and for what?_

Curufin knew that he was going to claim back the Silmarils, he and his brothers, no matter what. He was going to save his father and little brother from their cruel fates... **no matter what the cost.**

But unlike him, Tyelkormo had suffered a worse loss. Someone else, more precious to him than anyone else... Curufin understood. He truly understood now he himself was a father the love and loss Tyelko must feel for his daughter.

And he had no idea how his brother was so strong as to not only survive it, but continue on living almost the same as the rest of their brothers. _If I lost Telperinquar there would be no saving me..._

Curufin would never admit it, but he learned just how strong his brother's were as they went through all of their trials and tribulations...Maitimo, tortured, maimed, up and fighting again within a year. Makalaurë, able to make the hardest, but best decision as high king to not attempt a rescue mission for their older brother...Carnistir, managed to somehow wake all of the brothers out of their shock after the loss of..A..Atar and drag Curufin himself away, saving them all from a fiery end. Telvo, torn from his twin so, so tragically, almost pathetically, turned cold, but now lord of a fortress.

Curufin knew that although he bested them in cunning and intelligence he would never match his brothers in willpower and strength.

That willpower and strength had seemed to drain from Tyelko at the mere mention of Siofra Aranya. His inner roaring fire became a mere flame in the wind. Curufin was so angry at himself for _not thinking._

'I'm sorry, I didn't...' he began

'Don't' Tyelko's voice was a soft, pained whisper, 'please don't...'

Curufin knew that he should leave it at that, bid Tyelko goodnight, get an hour or two of reverie before dawn broke. But he had to know just one simple thing, a question that had been gnawing in the back of his mind since the flight.

'Do you regret it? Leaving her in Aman?' It was a simple question. All he wanted to know. Perhaps he could somehow comfort his brother a bit more if he knew the answer.

Tyelko glared at him, almost feral, as if he felt the urge to punch him for daring to so much as mention his little girl. But within seconds he had controlled his temper, pushing his emotions deep down.

He had gotten quite good at that, though Curufin feared that someday it would all be released, and that someone would get hurt.

Finally, Tyelkormo answered his question.

'Leaving her in Aman is the _only thing I do not regret..._ Goodnight brother...' He spun on his heel and disappeared to his room so quickly Curufin blinked in confusion. He sighed as he stripped his filthy garments and fell into bed next to his beloved. Well at least now he _knew._

sSsSsSSsSSsSSsSsSssSSs

Tyelkormo sighed as little Tyelepe dozed peacefully against his chest.

He watched his nephew, oh how innocent he was...it was hard to believe that once he and his brothers were once that small, vunerable...innocent.

Tyelkormo did not bother attempting to sleep, tonight had brought back far too many memories. Memories he should be remembering fondly, happy memories that should not cause so much pain.

But they did, because Siofra was a world away, he had missed out on so much, wasted her childhood years away chasing _jewels!_ He regretted it all, but what was done was done, and now he had to free his father and Pityo from the everlasting darkness and defeat Morgoth.

And even if he accomplished such feats he could not go back.

_I need to let my past go..._

_At least I know she is safe and happy and free..._

_Why did we swear that fucking oath! Even now I can feel it pulling me, pushing me, controlling me!. Each passing day it gets harder to ignore, to fight._

_There was no need to swear it! We could have just pursued those damn jewels on our own accord, Eru knows we have enough determination and unyielding stubbornness to achieve it! At least then we would have been able to die knowing we would eventually be reborn, in time we would meet again._

_At least then I could die... be reborn...and see her again. My little huntress..._

_Ai Írissë! We were such fools! We sold our precious freedom the moment we stepped on both ship and ice. I realised that as soon as we reached the shore, and I desperately hoped you would not follow, not after the... we...the ships...burning...Losgar..._

_I wish we had parted on better terms. But to be honest we were both emotional wrecks.I lost Pityo and you lost Arakáno. We both had sacrificed seeing our daughter ever again in loyalty to our fathers, only for them to stab us in the back by leading us on such foolhardy expeditions, it went downhill from there...I do miss you, but I know why you cannot forgive me and I do not pretend to know how much suffering you endured on the Helcaraxë...but believe me I regret the shipburning as much as you._

_I hope you are happy in the hidden city, in another life and time you would have told me such a place was a cage._

_But oh, I remember the good times._

Tyelko spent the remainder of the night remembering the days where he was just as tired and exhausted as Curvo was now, thanking Vána for teaching him everything he needed to know about babies (because Oromë was utterly useless in that field).

The day Írisse told him she was pregnant. She had _screamed_ at him as if it was entirely _his fault_ , he should have _pulled out_ sooner! Then she burst into tears. He cried too and paced the room over and over and over, terrified. His grandmother had _died_ giving birth...that couldn't happen to Írissë _could it? COULD IT?_ He had Míriel's hair, did that mean he would somehow pass her fate onto Írissë? Ai Valar what were they going to do?!

Eventually the two of them _calmed down_ , and made a plan to go on a long hunting trip. Tyelko promised Írissë that motherhood would not chain her, in fact it liberated her more, for here she was officially unmarried, free to raise her child the way she wished. Come and go as she pleased. Írissë in turn assured Tyelko that she would not die, that it was not his fault, she enjoyed their love making as much as he.

After the initial fear, excitement, joy, nerves and love kicked in as they prepared for their little one.

Tyelko had never been so distressed as the day Siofra was born. Vána kicked him out of the delivery room after he fainted... _twice_ , much to Írissë's rage. He somehow gathered his courage to return however, despite the Lady's protest, in time to greet the tiny, sleepy bundle that was placed in his arms. _A girl_ , finally the House of Fëanáro had a little girl...oh how he wished his Ammë was able to see her! He did not trust himself to hold her, he was afraid she would break into pieces.

It was as though a hurricane was raging in his chest, such was the emotions he felt. Then, she opened her eyes _...her eyes..._ they were already green, like his, except they gleamed brighter, and she cried, and it was the most melodic, beautiful sound Tyelko had ever heard.

'Tyelko', Írissë patted the bed and reminded him to _share_. He handed her ever so carefully to Írissë, who nursed her with just as much awe and fascination. The two of them stared and adored their newborn for the rest of the day, and night, and week.

He recalled when Siofra was as tiny as Tyelepe was now, her curls spilling as she lay on his bare chest, him lying against a bark, afraid to move for fear of waking her. Then when she eventually did wake her eyes- just like his- staring up at him. Her smile, just for her Atto beaming, toothless. Her little coos and gagas and giggles. She transformed him from a tough, fierce hunter to the softest, warmest, most _terrified_ young father. He would cross the Helcaraxë _twice_ for her. She had him wrapped around her tiny little finger.

As she grew older he remembered the adventures the three of them would go on. Her laugh as Huan allowed her to ride on his back. Tyelko doing daring, often daft things just to impress her, to feel young again. Írissë shaking her head at him, yet laughing nonetheless.

As she grew older (far too quickly for his liking) Siofra's face would light up each time he returned to the woods, it made him guilty for leaving, but family duties called in Tirion. She was so wild, scrawny and carefree. She would barely reach his hip as she hugged him with such force that he had to steady himself each time.

The times where he and Írissë would lie out under the stars, on their travels to the most northern part of the forest, where Varda's lights were visible, their beautiful daughter nestled inbetween them, fast asleep.

He remembered the excitement and pride that pulsed through him the day he returned only to find her having a conversation with a bluebird. She had _the gift!_ Someone would understand truly his abilities for once. He spent the rest of his visit introducing her to any animal they came upon. They were lucky to stumble across a doe and fawn.

The day he gave her the tattoo... Oh Valar if Írissë didnt kill him that day she never would. It had been the time when things were...tense.. to say the least between the houses of Fëanáro and Nolofinwë, a short time before the infamous 'pull a sword on the traitorous half-brother incident'... although to be fair to Írissë she was more concerned that Siofra alone should decide what to ink on her body, when she was old enough. Tyelko thought she was being a bit extreme, it was only a small tattoo and it helped ease his guilt for keeping his child a secret from his family.

Of course, when confessed this it enraged Írissë even more, much to Tyelko's dismay. (He thought she would be sympathetic and maybe give him a few kisses...or something else...to cheer him up but no.)

'So you mean to tell me Turcafinwë Tyelkormo that you _permanently **branded**_ our child with your family crest because **YOU** felt guilty?'

'It is a _tattoo_ , Írissë, not a brand! She can hide it if she wishes! And if you feel guilty too you can ink your crest the other side...?' 

Tyelko knew he had a talent of saying the worst possible thing at the worst possible time. It took Írissë a while to forgive him for that endevour.

After the fateful attack on Formenos, Tyelkormo was _gone_ , fast as the wind straight to Oromë's woods. He encountered Írissë somewhere along the way, she had the same intentions as he. They rode on with fear in their hearts, there had been no word from the woods, they did not know if Morgoth had been there or not. The relief they felt as they saw her sprinting towards them had the two collapsing to their knees as the adrenaline left them, holding her close.

He will never forget the day he left her. She was confused. She thought he and Írissë were going back to the city as usual. The dark didn't seem to bother her, she was completely oblivious to the occurrences of the past few days. She could not comprehend why her Atto had tears in his eyes, why Ammë kept telling her she loved her over and over, not just once or twice. Eru bless her, she sensed something was wrong but she knew it best not to mention it, so she simply performed all her little funny, cute mannerisms to make Atto and Ammë smile again. And they did, for a brief time, they completely forgot all of the madness of the new, darkened world.

They did not know for certain then that they would never see her again, but both had a sense of foreboding that told them to say farewell now, _just in case_. Sure enough, when they returned to Tirion chaos ensued. The oath was sworn, hosts were prepared, rebellion raged.

Tyelkormo and Írissë came to the decision to leave very reluctantly. Before any oath was sworn the two agreed that whatever was about to happen would be dangerous and that their respective houses and families needed them, now more than ever. Neither could bring themselves to abandon their father and brothers. That would be _selfish,_ they needed to think about those they could help and save. Siofra was happy and safe and free in the woods. They could not say the same for their other relatives.

_It would have been a decent reason, a noble sacrifice, the greater good, but then oaths and the kinslaying and the Doom got in the way, and made our sacrifice void. Twisted it and darkened it until the two of us were left realising we had made a big mistake, one we could not undo. It changed us._

Tyelko raked a hand through his hair, careful not to stir Tyelepe. Huan, sensing his discomfort leapt onto the bed beside him and nudged him with his wet nose. Tyelko scratched his faithful companion's head and let out his melancholy to Huan, who always listened.

_Those memories I have of her are my greatest treasures...There should have been more. What a fool I was.. I wonder does she hold them as close to her heart as I do. I hope she is as sheltered there as all those years ago. I hope she never learns of the terrible things we've done, that have brought us nothing but ruin. I hope she never finds out what I have become._

Huan whined, muttering something about change, _but I cannot change, I must stay cool, calculated...cruel... It is the only way if we are to defeat Morgoth and gain the Silmarils._

Huan whined again, this time in frustration.

Tyelko, still lost in the realm of memories, rubbed circles into Tyelepe's back as the wind returned again.

It was all too easy to imagine he was back home, with Irissë next to him and Siofra Aranya asleep on his chest...

sSsSSsSSSsssSsSsSsSSs

_Gondolin... First Age 220..._

Írissë could not sleep. She knew why.

Although hundreds of leagues divided them, she could still hear _him_ through their bond.

Tyelkormo was having a bad night. He was thinking of _her_ , regretting his deeds, longing for the woods and... Írisse scrunched her face and closed her eyes as a sob threatened to escape her lips...

_Aranya..._

How she wished she could travel back in time to the day she left the shores of Aman. **Scream** at her naive self to **not leave!** To stay with her precious little girl.

_I wonder what sort of a nís she grew up to be. Does she miss me as much as I miss her? Is she as adventurous and free as she always was? Is she still running wild?..._

__

__

_Then again, I was needed on the ice, if not for me many may have perished. I was needed by my brothers, by Itarillë, by my people._

_Though I am sure there was times my dear Aranya needed me aswell..._

_Just as I need Tyelkormo..._

She was unsure if he knew she could hear his melancholic brooding, he had apologised for the Helcaraxë a thousand times, and he knew she did not like to be told something more than once, especially if it was a pathetic apology that would NOT CHANGE ANYTHING!

She was certain he could not hear her however, for every time she responded to his apology with just as much regret as he. She told him things she usually would not dare to think. She told him that despite all the loss and suffering she had endured, she still missed him, still longed for him, loved him... _forgave him._

He responded by repeating over his apology the next night he let himself feel. Saying that he understood if she could not forgive him.

_I have no idea why his osanwë is so weak...he should be able to hear me if I can hear him...maybe I am imagining it?..._

__

__

_No it is definately him...If I was imagining it he would be saying much more flirtatious things rather than that CONSTANT RIDICULOUS APOLOGY!_

She smiled sadly as the images of Tyelko's memories flashed through her head _...Yes the initial panaic...ugh the idiot fainting when it was I who was going through the actual pain!...Her beautiful little face, not a bit like me!...the visits, the trips...the fierce hugs...the infamous tattoo!_

__

__

_Tyelko she better not be getting grief over that marking in Aman! I doubt they will see the eight pointed star as a symbol many would wish to remember. You wreckless fool Tyelko! You never cease to drive me up the wall! But oh how I loved you...and still do..._

Írissë and Tyelko had decided they would travel with their own Houses as they departed from Aman. Írissë had gained the trust, respect and loyalty of her Atar and brothers since she won the Aráto Games. Soon she was sparring with them. Oh, the satisfaction she got whenever she knocked them off their feet! Especially in front of their Atar!

She had found the belonging she had lacked within her own House, and a deep, stubborn sibling love existed between her and her brothers.

As the years in exile went by, Írissë had learned to love Tyelko again, well not that she had ever stopped, but she learned to love him without anger rising within her, without loathing him for the reckless deeds of Fëanáro... for she _knew_ he regretted the shipburning as much as she. He had lost Pityo for Eru's sake! How could he not?

The fact that one of Feanaro's own sons had perished in the hateful flames was proof enough to Irissë that the events at Losgar had been an insane, reckless act orchestrated by Fëanáro alone, for if his sons had known they would have made sure Pityo was there with them. It was as clear that the sons of Fëanor had been as shocked as she too witness the swan vessels burning.

Yet despite this logic she could not help but let all of her rage out on Tyelko, especially since Fëanáro had himself been taken by flames once they had reached the shores of Mithrim from the harsh, unyielding, treacherous ice and the cruel fated battle of the Lammoth. Tyelko was a son of Feanaro, therefore the next best thing to punch.

Countless innocents _...Elenwë... Arakáno..._ and it did not help that Findekáno had gone rushing off to save Maitimo several weeks ago, they all believed him dead.

Their last meeting was NOT a happy one. Írissë screamed and cursed and punched him in rage. Told him she _hated_ him, wished to NEVER see him again.

Tyelko tried to defend himself at first saying he had no idea they would attempt to cross the ice, tried to calm her down, did not retaliate, but eventually his patience ran out, for he had lost so much also..His Atar, Maitimo, Pityo...And Siofra Aranya had already left a big crack on both of their hearts. Soon the two of them were burning each other out in fiery anger and hate.

'Írissë it is **NOT** my fault that your Atar made a reckless, impulsive, stupid decision to cross the grinding ice and **YOU** were foolish enough to follow! It is **NOT** my fault that Arakáno decided to become a hero, a martyr, sacrifice himself to turn the tide at the Lammoth! It is **NOT** my fault Findekáno left on his own accord to save Maitimo! Are you blind!? You all chose your own fate, be it by unquestioning obedience or sheer stupidity!

 **'I AM THE ONE WHO IS BLIND?! _YOU_** sold your soul to the void over three accursed gems! I know you care nothing for jewels! You did it out of your unquestioning obedience! I did not kill Innocent elves simply because **insane Fëanáro** ordered it! Any who fell to my sword was in _defence_ of my family, my people! Pity you can't say the same! Ha! you were so **blind** you did not even notice Pityo was being _burnt alive_ until it was too late.

A sharp sting burnt on her face.

Tyelko had _hit_ her.

Of course, Tyelko had hit her before. They trained in hand to hand combat together. Sometimes they had cheeky play-fights. But never like this.. never out of sheer rage and anger.

It _scared_ her...

True, she had stooped low. She should not have implied the tragic fate of Pityo was his fault, that was below the belt. She had also punched and kicked and hit him before she attacked with words, before he lost his cool.

But, despite their lack social rules , they had always stuck, almost unconsciously to the moral ' You do not hit a girl'.

Tyelko appeared to regret his action before it had happened. His eyes, full of grief, hurt, rage and guilt widened in disbelief. 'Írissë..I...'

 **'DON'T. YOU. DARE.** I never want to see you again! **I HATE YOU** and all your kin, for all the pain, loss and suffering your _precious trinkets_ have caused!

Tyelko's hurt turned to rage. He spun on his heel and stormed away from her.

They went their separate ways.

Írissë knew they had both been wrong. They were both too proud. The wounds of loss were still too fresh. They let all of their frustration and rage out on each other, hurting themselves more in the process.

_We were too much of the same.._

A monologue of Tyelko's drifted across her mind... _'I hope you are happy in the hidden city, in another life and time you would have told me such a place was a cage.'_

He hoped she was _happy?_ How in Elbereth could she be happy here? She was in a _prison_ , under the guise of a sanctuary, a haven, somewhere safe.

Why had she come here in the first place? Why not dwell with Findekáno who was free as a bird? There was only one reason...

_Idril Celebrindal._

Aredhel watched as Elenwë and Itarillë slid under the ice, it freezing over before they could resurface, the panaic that ensued, her brothers and father desperately hacking at the ice, Turukáno in a state of near insane frenzy she had not seen before. She watched, calculating the situation in her head before she rushed into anything. (She acquired this skill during her hunts with Tyelko, who _always_ rushed into dangerous situations where he would get injured, and she would have to _save_ him, her heart in her mouth at the fear of losing him). 

She saw what her brothers did not in their rash rescue attempt, the key to escape. A few meters behind them, there was a patch of ice not so thick, it would break easily. That left another problem. Elenwë and Itarillë _could not swim._

She knew what she had to do.

She **screamed** at her brothers and Atar to **'KEEP THE ICE OPEN!** They turned just in time to see her dive into the piercing, cutting ice water. Findekáno realised what she was doing first, and rushed over, ushering the others to follow, horrified expressions on their faces.

She held her breath for what felt like an eternity and a half as she desperately pulled herself through the bitter cold. Finally she reached the two. Itarillë was unconscious, but safely in her Ammë's arms. Írissë gestured to Elenwë to grab onto her hand.

She cursed as Elenwë clung to her so desperately that she began to sink.

'NO NO NO! LET GO! THIS IS NOT HOW IT ENDS!' Írissë tried to tell Elenwe that she needed to relax, or she would drown the three of them, however, this only caused Elenwë to panaic more.

She felt the three of them sink further and further.

She desperately gestured to Elenwë to remain _calm_.However, the ice cold, the unconscious child and lack of air made this impossible for her law-sister.

The surface seemed further and further away with each passing second.

Írissë knew what she had to do. It was only a matter of time before she passed out or the ice froze over.

It was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

'Forgive me, nésa.'

She kicked Elenwë off her harshly, taking Itarillë into her own arms She watched with aching heart as Elenwë floated away, paniac turning to numbness.

She desperately pushed and heaved and crawled her way back. She fell into deep unconsciousness just as she felt strong arms hoist her up out of the ice.

She awoke three days later. Still cold. Ice still in her lungs as she gasped for air, glorious bitter air.

Findekáno and Arkáno were there when she woke, pained expressions on their face. 'Itarillë?' she rasped.

They merely shook their heads. 'She has not woken,it is a matter of hours..it..it will not be long before she..her fëa...Lord Námo...' Arakáno held back a sob.

She gazed across from her makeshift bed. There was Turukáno cradling his child, holding her as close as possible. Her face was deathly pale, her distanced breaths were shaky, shallow. The look of grief in her brother's eyes terrified her. This was Turukáno, he did everything right! He did not deserve this! His wife, now his only child.

She noticed her brothers, cousins, Atar, even Laurëfindal and Ehtelë had no cloaks on. They must have been freezing! They had gladly given them to Itarillë. She did the same, Turukáno barely acknowledging her as he stared blankly, desperately at his daughter, pleading the Valar to have mercy.

It was that moment when her heart turned as cold as the ice in hatred of Fëanáro.

So many dead, so many dying.. for what? They were not his enemies!

 _We are now..._ Írissë vowed in her head.

Those fatal hours passed however, and Itarillë stayed with them, desperately clinging onto life. A small, dark part of Írissë wished she would just _die_ , before they got hope only for it to be crushed.

The Host had to keep moving. They all took turns carrying their niece. Days turned to weeks.

Irissë dared to hope.

Under the frail, delicate body, the golden curls, the soft childish face, there was a stubborn child of Finwë who was NOT giving up that easy!

Írissë was carrying her the day she woke up.

She glimpsed something in the corner of her eye. She gazed down only to find a pair of dazed eyes being brushed by long lashes, blinking.

'Itarillë!' Irisse must have sounded panaiced, for her brothers seemed to think the dreaded moment had finally come. They were half afraid to look, her Atar bowed his head, Findekáno rushed to Turukáno, who had fallen to his knees. Arakáno turned his face away, hiding tears.

Irissë took no heed of those idiots. She focused on Itarillë. 'Itarillë, moina, can you hear me?'

Her niece looked at her confused for a few seconds...'Auntie...Írissë? Her voice was a mere whisper.

Four heads shot up around her and sprinted to where Írisse was crouched, cradling her dear niece.

'Itarillë! My grandchild! It cannot be!'

'SSSHHH not so loud you will hurt her ears!'

Itarillë how do you feel? Are you okay? Stay awake nya anel! Keep out of the light! Are you hungry? Are you cold?

'She will be fine Turko, just give her a few moments to adjust!'

'Itarillë I have never been so happy to see you awake!'

'Give her some space please she has only just woken!'

'Itarillë you sleepy head!'

'You are making her dizzy! Only Turukáno should be here now!'

'Itarillë who is your favourite uncle? I definately carried you more comfortably than Arakáno. At one stage he nearly dropp..'

 **'ALL OF YOU BACK OFF, EXCEPT TURUKÁNO!'** Irissë hissed with such command they all shrank away from her. Oh well, they had asked for it, they had ignored her warnings numerous times.

She will never forget Turukáno's face as she handed him his child. He was a heartbroken mess, a wreck, he had fallen into despair. She was certain but a few moments ago he was on Lord Námo's doorstep. Now his eyes were filled with hope, immense joy, disbelief, a little grief. He had completely lost his princely manner, his protocols and etiquette. He simply held Itarillë in his arms as though she would disappear into air if he dared let go.

Irissë gave the two privacy, Turukáno had to gently break the news to his daughter that her mother was not coming back. Írissë could not stop the guilt from consuming her now she had time to think.

_It was not my fault! If it was not for me they both would be gone!._

__

__

_If I had tried to swim harder, could I have managed to save her?_

_Swim harder? I swam so hard in the cold without air that I passed out...for three days!_

_And if I had delayed longer in that water would fate have been so kind to my niece?_

_That does not change the fact that Itarillë is left without a mother! And unlike Aranya she is headed for a dark land, full of peril. She needs someone to teach her to survive. Especially because she is a girl._

Írissë made the decision there and then. Ítarille _needed_ her. She need that mother/ older sister figure in her life as she grew up. Whatever happened once they reached Endor, she would remain with Turukáno, follow wherever he lead.

She had left one child motherless. She would not make that mistake again.

Even if that meant sacrificing her freedom.

For Írisse had learned that some things were more important than being free.

So therefore, as much as it pained her wild, adventurous fëa, she followed Turgon to his hidden city. She dwelt there, more of a lady than she had ever been. She explored the plains of Gondolin of course, but soon had discovered every nook and cranny there was. Therefore she passed the time by educating Itarillë. Both in literature and combat (surprisingly Turgon did not protest- if Idril could fight, she was _safer_ ).

She also taught her to be headstrong, independent and to not let others choose her fate for her. She did not have to 'fit in' or do what was the 'norm'. She was a princess, she was meant to stand out.

The two became inseparable as Idril grew into a strong young woman, ever a lady like her mother, but with an inner strength, determination and stubborness that could only have come from her aunt, her now sworn osellë.

But now as Írissë lay in bed she knew that Itarillë did not necessarily _need_ her anymore. She was perfectly capable of surviving on her own. She loved the company of her aunt, true, but she did not need it.

This opened long locked doors of numerous possibilities in Írissë's mind. This opened her emotions.

She longed to see Tyelkormo again. She wanted them to talk as they used to, banter. She wanted to make him smirk. She wanted to let herself fall into his arms where she could let her guard down completely.

She wished to hunt with him again, run through the woods free again. New undiscovered woods with endless possibilities.

She ached for his touch. Her bed had been so empty and cold all these years. She missed the passion and lust and excitement of lovers.

She wanted someone to share her pain with over the loss of her daughter. She needed to properly grieve her, let all her emotions she had surpressed out and as far as she could see, so did Tyelko. 

Despite all that had happened to tear them apart, she still wished to return to him. She always would. He held her freedom, without even knowing.

So the next morning she found herself in Turgon's office. She waited for his quill to stop bouncing all over the place, for his eyes to rise to meet hers, before she spoke.

'I am leaving' She braced herself for retaliation. Her voice had left no room for argument but this was Gondolin, _no one left._

'If that is what you wish. But I am sending Glorfindel, Echthelion and Egalmoth with you.'

Írissë was stunned for a moment. Did her really just agree to let her go? Was it really _that easy?_

Turgon chuckled at her perplexed expression. 'Aredhel, I know better than to try to stop you from doing something you truly wished! Tell me, if I had said no, you would have ran away, abused your position to get past the guards and be gone flying through the wilds before I had even noticed you were missing, would you not?'

Írissë did not reply. That was a rhetorical question.

Turgon gave her a look of disapproval, betrayed by slight mirth in his eyes. 'In truth, I did not think you would have lasted this long with us, though I know _why_ you did.

His eyes lowered to the floor, a sign he was emotional. His voice became a whisper 'I...I never thanked you, I was shocked, and then buried in grief and then so many different occurrences happened, battles to fight, treaties to negotiate, there was always something to do, duties to fulfil, but I wanted you to know that I am so grateful for what you did. You are the smartest of all of us. If it weren't for your quick-thinking that fateful day...I...I would have lost them both'.

There was a fear in his eyes Írissë recognised all to well, the fear of loss.

'You risked your life to rescue her and you succeeded. And not only did you save her, but you _raised_ her. I know you did not choose to live here out of a need for security, I know you would much rather have dwelt with Fingon, or even lead a people of your own, but you sacrificed it all, for the sake of my daughter. _Thank You._

Írissë found herself smiling fondly at her big brother. 'Idril is a sister to me, my osellë, it was an honour and a pleasure to be a part of her childhood.' Her grin widened 'And Gondolin is not _that_ bad I suppose, despite its architecture being _a little_ over the top!' she teased.

Her brother shook his head. 'Nothing will ever please you my dear little nésa!'. He stood and embraced her, planting a kiss on her forehead

'I would wish for you to visit Fingon only, but I know there is someone else you long to see.

'He is my Otorno and I miss him, we did not part on the best terms.. I worry that if he falls, and the oath..I might never see...'

'I know' Turgon replied. 'And know that Gondolin will always be here for you to return to, I could never shut the door on my own sister, hidden city or not, especially after all she has done for our family. Just promise me one thing Írissë'

'Yes brother?'

'Near Himlad, there are dark woods, It is uncertain who or what dwells there. They are called the Nam Elmoth. A dark sense of foreboding comes over my heart each time I hear the name. Stay away from there.'

'I promise' replied Írissë.

She desperately tried to push away the curiosity and wonder that aroused in her at the thought of exploring of a dark, mysterious forest...

sSsSsSsSsSsssssSSsSSssSs

Translations:

Sindarin:

Ada- dad/daddy

Nana- mom/mommy

Elbereth- Varda.

Quenya:

miruvórë- a strong elvish alcohol drink.

moina- dear

anel- daughter

nya- my

Arakáno- Argon

Turukáno- Turgon

Findekáno- Fingon

Laurëfindal- Glorfindel

Ehtelë- Ecthelion 

sSSsSSssSsSSsSSssSsSSsSsSsSssSsSSs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is another chapter! Whoop whoop. Originally, this 'flashback' was only meant to be around five hundred words and not the whole chapter! I planned on just having the Curufin and Celebrimbor part with Tyelko coming to save the day (or night), putting his skills he acquired raising Siofra to good use, with angst thrown in of course because he misses his little girl. But, my mind ran away and soon I had a narrative for Tyelko and Írissë also!
> 
> I love how Curufin is so tired he cannot think. Not so crafty now are you? The over protectiveness was a must to include also. He is extremely possesive/proud of his son. Definately living up to his mother name, 'Atarinkë.'
> 
> Also he still struggles to say 'Atar' his grief runs deep.
> 
> We can see Tyelko and Írissë have both matured since the last chapter. Parenthood changed them I guess, and obviously everything they went through since the flight.
> 
> Írissë has long passed the stage of hating her family, she now loves them dearly. But I am sure this has a lot to do with her father and brothers simply respecting her choices in life. (Notice how she did not mention Anairë!)
> 
> Tyelko knowing exactly how to stop the baby crying just melted my heart. Awww bless. And he regrets alot as we can see. I may have had something in my eye as I re-read his memories of Siofra.
> 
> Huan is starting to have doubts. Oh shit.
> 
> Írissë misses Aranya also, but she does not dwell on it as much as Tyelko. There are a few reasons. Firstly, Írissë saved her niece and possibly indirectly Turgon on the ice, if she was not there they would have died. Secondly, Írissë did not swear the oath, therefore in the back of her mind knows that she may well meet her daughter someday, even if the worst comes to pass. Lastly, Írissë's personality is different to Tyelko's in that she does not brood, or dwell on the past or things she cannot change. This is shown in her hatred of apologies. Her attitude is very much MOVE ON, DEAL WITH IT!
> 
> I really liked the idea of Írissë being the one to save Itarillë from the ice. Her cool, calm head was vital in the rescue, especially since the 'idiots', as she called them, were so panicked they almost sealed the fate of Itarillë by simply hacking the ice at the wrong place.
> 
> Írissë is that fun, outgoing, crazy aunt we all have. I have made her and Idril very close. Idril is a very interesting charachter in that she was a princess, a respected lady, but she also had her own free will, hence her marraige to Tuor. Also she had the strength to lead her perople out of Gondolin as it fell. I like to think she got such strength and determination from Írissë.
> 
> I loved the part where Írissë scared the shit out of her brothers when she ordered them to give Itarillë some space. What a QUEEN!
> 
> Of course Fingon's main concern after his niece wakes from a near fatal coma is who she thinks is her favourite uncle. Life or death answer! (I sincerely hope he was not thinking that maybe he would never know, when it seemed that Itarillë would not make it.)
> 
> I love how Turgon is like 'no one EVER leaves Gondolin' but as soon as Írissë asks he is like 'Go...just _go_. I know if I refuse you you'll make things worse!'
> 
> And for Eru's sake Írissë DO NOT GO NEAR NAN ELMOTH! (she's not gonna listen to me, she doesn't listen to anyone).
> 
> Siofra and Kyelaeron's adventures will continue in chapter 8!
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	8. Many Meetings and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siofra visits Mahtan and Nerdanel. Kyelaeron visits Vayelya. Suspicions are confirmed, truths are revealed, memories are remembered.
> 
> Welcome back! Now sit back and enjoy the meetings we have all been waiting for...

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

'Atto if you had only seen her! You would have jumped out of your skin! Her eyes! How often does one see an elf with eyes like our side of the family? And the hair! It was not pure Telerin silver, not Sindar blonde, not Vanyar gold. It was a mix of the palest shade of blonde and a unique silver that only Míriel possessed, which Tyelko in turn inherited!'

'There are only two possible explanations; I have either completely lost the plot and imagined her resemblance... or I encountered Tyelko's daughter, my granddaughter, who for reasons unknown to me was kept a secret and left in Aman.'

Nerdanel sighed into her mug of tea, somehow managing to appear full of certainty and self doubt at the same time.

Mahtan honestly did not know what to think. Was it possible for Tyelko to have had a child in his youth?...Certainly. He had once been the biggest heartthrob in both the Wilds and Tirion, hunted by the ladies and the huntresses alike in his adolescence. Also, his lack of care for rules and responsibilities and impulsive nature increased his chance of unexpectedly becoming a father tenfold.

But only four weeks ago, Nerdanel had come close to fading. Mahtan knew from his own experience that a little 'hopeful hallucination' as he called it, or fooling oneself into believing their fantasies are true, could make it that little bit easier to cope. As long as one did not get carried away with their own mind tricks.

With this in mind, Mahtan concluded it best not to raise Nerdanel's hopes. She had recovered well, but he did not want her suddenly seeing lost relatives everywhere she went. If Tyelko did have a daughter in Aman, the truth would eventually uncover itself in the upcoming weeks of the Aráto Games,

'Hmm.' The master smith stroked his beard. 'It is a tricky one Istarnië. Though I find it hard to believe Tyelko would keep something as important as a child from us. You know how open he was. And he knew we all accepted his choices as a follower of Oromë, we respected his alternative views and values. He knew we would all have accepted her and doted upon her no matter what her heritage. I doubt he would have cared much about Finwë's opinion, he never did.'

Doubt crossed Nerdanel's face 'Perhaps you are right...'. Her expression then turned to one of slight epiphany. 'Though perhaps... perhaps he had to hide his daughter because of the mother's family...?

'He was a prince. I do not know a family in Tirion who would be against a union with someone they knew to be the highest of class, honourable, despite his wildness _and_ champion of the Aráto Games. I doubt he would have seen the family of a nís so great an obstacle to prevent us from even knowing the child existed. He would have used his position of power if he had to, I am certain.'

'As for the hunters, they adored Tyelko. He was their representative to the outside world, he was a prince who chose their way of life rather than the respectable way of the warriors. He did not look down on them, if anything he looked up to them, admired them. Whats more the hunters simply do not do rules, they would not care if a child was born out of traditonal Noldo wedlock.'

'We would not have forced him to marry the nís if he did not wish. Valar, even if we wanted to he would not do it if it is not what he desired. So why keep this daughter hidden? Why? It does not make sense!

'Maybe he did not want her to have to face the responsibilities, fame and duties that come with being a princess?' Nerdanel mused.

'It is Tyelko. He would have made sure she was free to do as she wished. Being a prince never hindered him.' The more Mahtan thought of it, the more unlikely it seemed.

He was beginning to convince himself it was not possible for this mystery child to be on their shores. Nerdanel was not so easily swayed.

'What if...' His daughter appeared to be thinking deeply, he could almost see her mind filing through memories, events, things she had witnessed. 'What if the union was forbidden... if the mother's family had just as much power as us...almost. What if there was no way Tyelko could introduce us to his daughter without risking the mother's family from finding out the truth, without perhaps risking his custody, and that of the mothers...'

'What do you mean Istarnië?!' Mahtan began to believe Nerdanel had not quite recovered as much as he had hoped. 'The only way Tyelko would lose custody of his child was if the Noldor counsel, which Fëanáro belonged to voted unanimously along with the King for it to be so! Such a thing was unheard of before the darkening!'

'Exactly..I do not know how Fëanáro would have reacted if he found out. Finwë most definitely would not have approved, along with Nolofinwë. Fëanáro...would he have sided with his Atar?...Him and Nolofinwë were always in competition...one always eager to outshine the other in Finwë's eyes...would he have given up his grandchild for that approval?... In those later years it was not impossible...'

Nerdanel seemed to be piecing a puzzle in her head, but making absolutely zero sense. 'We were so blind... if any of us had simply opened our eyes, it was right under our noses, all this time...'

'Nerdanel, if Fëanáro found out what? What does Tyelko's child have to do with the quarrel of Fëanáro and Nolofinwë? What was so obvious that we all simply did not see?' Mahtan could not help but feel panaic rise in his chest. Was Nerdanel going mad...? Why was she mumbling all of this all of a sudden?

Upon hearing his voice she stopped, her eyes fixed on the floor. Mouth opening and then closing...almost afraid, nervous, unsure whether or not to spill her monologues to him.

After a long pause of hesitation, she began..'I...I do not know how to say this...but Tyelko, I noticed in the later years that he only had eyes for one...It sounds absurd, ridiculous, but the evidence is there Atar, one cannot deny it.'

Spit it out Istarnië...After all I have lived through and the horrors of recent years...I doubt anything can shock me anymore...

Nerdanel took a deep breath. 'What if the mother of the child was...'

_Knock, knock, knock, **knock, knock,** KNOCK **KNOCK!**_

A series of loud, playful knocks sounded on the door, the two to jumped.

Nerdanel rolled her eyes. 'The sign outside states very clearly I am booked out on commissions for statues until after the Games. I bet this is someone yet again coming to my door to tell me how much they hate my husband, my sons and me for something I had no part in.'

'WHAT?!' Mahtan could not help but let a shout out in anger at the fact that someone could possibly think of disturbing his daughter, who had suffered much more than the average citizen in the darkening. 'Why do they blame you, the fact that you are here proves you are innocent!'

His daughter shook her head sadly. 'Just ignore them, they will eventually go away.'

Mahtan had no intention of simply 'leaving be' any antagoniser of his little girl.

'I WILL DO NO SUCH THING! HOW _DARE THEY!_ I WILL TEACH THEM MANNERS!'

Mahtan stormed down the hall, intending to release his anger and fury on anyone who dared such hurtful deeds towards his daughter. Nerdanel had nearly died! The last thing she needed was this!

'Atar wait! You do not know... It may just be a client!...WAIT!' Nerdanel chased her Atar down the hall to the door, cursing the fact that all the men and boys she had ever truly known were impulsive and fiery tempered.

Mahtan had opened the door before she had caught up however. She was about to make him restrain, perhaps break up a fight, but, for some reason her Atar had frozen in place at the door.

That is not like him at all! _...what has him so spooked?_

She peeped over his shoulder and saw exactly who had caused such a severe reaction.

She stood in the doorway. Her poise and demeanour was strong, tall, proud, making her appear taller than what she was. Leathers revealing her muscled and toned arms, legs and abdomen. Her bright, green eyes gleamed with excitement and wonder, as she gazed at various pieces of Nerdanel's strewn about the yard. Her hair was a bush of those unique-coloured curls, falling over her shoulders and down her back, spilling over her quiver and spear, hiding any tell-tale tattoo which may have been present. A smirk was planted on her face.

Nerdanel returned the smirk, her Atar had thought her mad, but the fact that he was standing dumbstruck in front of this huntress was all the proof she needed that her mind was as wise as it ever was.

The huntress broke the silence.

'Hullo!' she beamed cheerfully, unsheathing a dagger that was all too familiar, but brutally bent.'I find myself in need of a smith, and I am told this place is the best.'

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Vayelya, after a busy morning selling her flutes at the marketplace, finally sat for a moments rest, back in the comfort of her workshop. She made herself a strong cup of her favourite herbal tea (the very tea that had been drugged many years ago) and hoped it would cure the hangover she had from the celebration the night before.

_I must be getting old...I used to stay out dancing and drinking far later. My osellë and I giggling and flirting and sneaking into both the most lavish and most rowdy parties. Ai those were the days!_

Her thoughts, for the hundredth time that day it seemed, returned to the tall, handsome, silver eyed musician/hunter she had encountered on the streets. Her _nephew._

She pondered over and over in her head what to do now that she had all but confirmed the rumour was true. Should she tell him? How exactly does one tell someone such a thing. _'I am your aunt, I did not know until you were an adult. Your father does not know you exist. Your mother barely escaped with her life and yours after your grandfather threatened her.'_ It sounded like a theatrical production. A very bad one.

She came to the conclusion that if she were to reveal the truth to him, she would wait until after the Games. She knew the competition probably meant a great deal to him and she did not want to distract him with such big news mere days before the first trial. He had waited over seven hundred years, he could wait another few weeks.

This gave her a false sense of security. She had another few weeks of ignorant bliss before she revealed the truth to her nephew _...I do not even know his name..._ She dreaded revealing such news to him. She dreaded rejection. She had gone through so many hurts since the darkening and had just got to a stage where she was happy again.

She knew it was selfish, but she did not want him to upset her by not being able to accept her as his aunt.

Because she had accepted him as her nephew the moment she laid eyes on him.

However, she hoped with all of her heart that he would allow her to know him. How she missed having family. She did not need a large family, just one person would be enough. One person was enough when she was a little girl. She had friends now true, but none as close as an osellë or a brother. There was still times she felt lonely. Especially in times of celebration as these.

So she went on fearing and longing for the day she would finally get to meet her brother's long-lost son.

Little did she know it would be today.

She lifted her head as the chimes on the door sounded and a customer stepped, slightly limped in.

She froze. Silver eyes met identical silver eyes. She yet again found herself staring at a replica of her brother.

He was handsome, she had to admit. His skintone brought out the rare colour of his eyes, making them stand out even more. His raven hair fell straight down his back, tied at the sides with two simple braids. He had barely anything covering him, just a pair of leather breeches and the strap of his quiver running across his bare chest. He was as muscular as her hanno had been in his prime as a warrior, but perhaps more rugged, he had a wildness to appearance she associated to both the hunters and her osellë.

The ner who had entered, seemingly oblivious to her shock bowed his head slightly and spoke 'Are you Vayelya? I am told you make the best flutes. I find myself in need of a new one, before tonight actually. I may have had a...slight mishap during the festivities last night.' He held up what she made out to be a _wooden stick?_...no.. a _flute!_ In two _halves._

Luckily the ner seemed to take her stunned expression as a reaction to the broken flute, not to him. He smiled sheepishly. 'The liquor in Tirion is _very_ strong...'

Immediately put at ease by his humour _...so much like hanno's..._ she began to laugh. She was joined by her client, her nephew. His voice was silver, and again it was too much like her brother's for comfort.

'I know exactly what you mean' she finally answered. 'I presume like myself you have suffered a pounding headache all morning?' He nodded.

She continued 'It will take me a while to draw up the measurements and then craft a flute to suit you. I will fetch you some of my miracle tea for while you are waiting. It works wonders on throbbing hangovers..and on bruised knees which have been assaulted by flutes...'

It was now her nephew's turn to appear shocked. His mouth opened slightly and he exclaimed in disbelief 'How did you...?'

'I once knew a ner who did the exact same thing one rainy night in Tirion.' She began, fondly remembering the story that she had never let her dear brother forget. 'Except his flute was silver, not wood and instead of the flute it was his leg that was broken in half! He could not dance for over a year! It nearly drove him insane, not to mention... his.. partner.'

 _SHIT!_ thought Vayelya. _That was too much information. I do not know how much he knows. For all I know his mother may have told him that story before! My mouth always ran faster than my thoughts!_

She shook her head, forcing herself to appear as if she had not made a near fatal error. Her nephew was not fooled. He was as sharp as his mother it seemed.

'You knew a ner from Tirion who played the flute and danced? Do you know his name? Or the name of his dance partner?'

He seemed suddenly desperate and Vayelya realised how young he truly was. How she wished to spill all of the truth there and then, give him a massive hug, tell him stories of his Atar and Ammë and never let him out of her sight. She barely just restrained herself.

She composed herself enough to deliver a fairly convincing 'It was many years ago, my memory has blurred.'

She left him and strode to her kitchen, to prepare the hot drink.

She did not see him raise an eyebrow and give a suspicious, skeptic look to her back.

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It took a discreet cough and nudge from Nerdanel to wake Mahtan from his stupefied state. His eyes widened, and after another brief pause and a shake of his head he brought himself to speak.

'I am sorry young lady, I am only here on a visit. My forge is a weeks ride from here. You will not have your dagger back in time to compete in the Games.'

Nerdanel wanted to smack Mahtan. He was turning her possible granddaughter away? _Why do neri have the inability to think before they act!? Fëanáro's forge is just outside the house for Aulë's sake!_

But before she had the chance to tell her Atar to feel free to use the abandoned forge her husband and fifth son used to practically live in, and perhaps ask the nís a few casual yet revealing questions, the huntress herself spoke fast, almost desperately.

'Vána said you would say that. And she said that if you did say it, that I should tell you it is only a dagger that is merely bent, and fixing it should be simple to the _best smith_ in Aman. She said it is simply a matter of _lineage._ '

The last word had Mahtan yet again frozen in place. Nerdanel had to admit she did not blame him this time. Vána had sent this girl here? Why here? Fëanáro's forge had not been used in years. There were plenty of capable smiths in the city to choose from. And more importantly gave her a message which had vividly hinted Nerdanel's suspicions were true.

Nerdanel now fully believed this was Tyelko's daughter. She could see her Atar begin to sway in his judgement also.

'Atar, feel free to use the old forge. I doubt my husband would mind, especially since this is but a small job _related_ to the Games.' Nerdanel gave Mahtan a look, knowing he heard her hint perfectly. It seemed, by the oblivious expression on her face, that the nís had not picked up on any of the puns about herself.

Mahtan nodded and, still too shocked to speak, turned to make his way to the forge.

'Atar' Nerdanel called, 'the dagger?' Mahtan had forgotten the piece he was to mend in his shock.

'Mmm..yes...' was all he managed to mumble as he turned again. The huntress handed him the dagger.

'You may as well check over her other weapons too Atar. We don't want any more accidents before the first trial now do we?'

'That would be brilliant, if you could make sure there are no hidden weak spots.' The girl answered. 'Please be careful with my bow! It belonged to my Ammë.'

Nerdanel recognised the bow... She saw her Atar do a double take. Perhaps he had figured out what she had been about to divulge before the door sounded.

The young nís handed Mahtan her bow, quiver, spear and a set of hidden throwing knives. She carried a great amount in her scant garments.

Mahtan- still speechless made his way to the forge, weapons in tow.

Nerdanel then smiled warmly at the huntress who seemed at a loss over what to say or do. 

'I know you! she exclaimed suddenly. Nerdanel's chest soared with slight panaic for a second. The nís continued 'You were at the parade.'

'Y-Yes' Nerdanel breathed, relieved. 'That was very quick thinking on your part, you saved that rascals life.'

'We get alot of experience of quick thinking on hunts.' The nís shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

_Was that a little of the unmistakable Tyelkormo arrogance I just saw? The act of dismissing ones great deeds as though it were as simple as walking in the woods?_

'Well moina, the forge has not been used in years and I am afraid it will take a few hours to kick-start the furnaces. Would you care to come in for tea?'

The huntress looked unsure, in thought, as if she felt there was some protocol response she could not remember.

Finally she gave up, smiled and simply nodded. 'I would love to Lady Anairë'.

It took Nerdanel a moment to register what she had been mistakenly labelled. She laughed, remembering that to one raised in the wilds, the royal family was a subject of study in itself, one this nís had failed. Ironic, since she herself was unknowingly royal .

The nís smiled, as if she knew she had made an error but didn't know what else to call her.

'I am as far as one can get from Lady Anairë dear. I am Nerdanel. A humble sculptress who happens to be the wife of Fëanáro.'

The eyes of the huntress widened. 'That means...'

Nerdanel cringed. She braced herself to hear another account of some deed of her husband, the rebellion, the flight, the ships, perhaps the ice.

'That means...' The huntress began again 'you are the Ammë of _Tyelkormo!_

Nerdanel was pleasantly surprised that was the first thing this nís thought of when she heard the name 'Fëanáro'

'He is a legend among our people. Though I never met him.'

Nerdanel felt her heart sink. How had this girl never met Tyelkormo? He was constantly in those woods! Was this young nís born after the darkening?

She tried to convince herself there was still hope. Perhaps the nís could not remember? Perhaps, sadly, Tyelko was not around much for his daughter?

Or perhaps this was not her grandchild after all.

'Yes. I am. ' She smiled sadly. The huntresses eyes gazed on her in sympathy.

'I know how you feel. My parents left me too. I think my Atar followed the House of Fëanáro. He even gave me a tattoo to match his, though my Ammë was not very pleased. They had a big fight that day. I think she followed Nolofinwë.'

Nerdanel tried to stop her heart from soaring again at the mention of a matching tattoo and the very accurate descriptions of Tyelko and...Írissë who she believed to be the mother.

_Do not get your hopes up Nerdanel! That is but a mere theory and it is commonplace for hunters to give their children matching tattoos._

Nerdanel could not help but ask. 'What tattoo did he give you?' _Does it match the star in my vision? Is it behind your ear?_

'The eight pointed star. Just behind my ear.' It was if she answered Nerdanel's thought. She brushed her hair away with her hand, exposing her neck, exposing the tattoo Nerdanel had seen before.

'He must have been very loyal to my house if he inked it on his daughter's skin. Did he know Tyelkormo?' Nerdanel questioned slyly.

'I think so. But whenever I would ask he would laugh and then proceed to tell me exaggerated tales of a ner with Vala like strength, the most handsome in the world, the most loved with the ladies, able to defeat Tulkas in swordplay and Oromë in hunting, and at that point my Ammë would punch him and tell him to _stop._ '

The two níssi laughed, but only one knew the true humour of the story.

Nerdanel"s faith was restored. Only Tyelko would tell a story of, well,Tyelko in such a cocky manner. Only Írissë would have the nerve to punch him and get away with it in order for him to shut up and stop boasting to the poor oblivious child.

'Let us go inside' Nerdanel spoke once the giggles ended. 'I believe we both have many amusing stories related to my son.'

'I believe we do' was the reply. As the two made their way through the hall the huntress spoke.

'My name is Siofra Aranya.'

 _Shining Huntress and Free... why am I not surprised?_ Nerdanel pondered.

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Vayelya returned with the tea and some sweet biscuits she had baked and was thanked for her hospitality by her nephew. Her nephew. It seemed so strange to say in her mind.

'Now let me see what remains of your old flute.' He handed her the halves. She recognised the work of her osellë. She had engraved her initials on the back.

Vayelya smothered a giggle as she wondered how angry her osellë would be at her son for breaking her flute in such a manner. Her brother had been in BIG trouble when his Melda found out that because of his theatrics under the influence, she could not dance with him for a very long time.

'This is a fine flute'. She stated, writing down the measurements and sketching a new replica.

'It was made by my mother. She did not play, but she knew how to carve. She used to carve flutes for my Atar. His main flute was silver. But from time to time he enjoyed the wood, the forest-like melody it produced.' Vayelya felt his unwavering gaze on her.

_Is he testing me? It seems that, like his mother he does not miss a trick. I cannot make any more mistakes. He is watching like a hawk._

It took all of her composure to not react to the simple anecdote. Or perhaps add that it was his Ammë that insisted his Atar play on wood. Or that his mother did know how to play, just that she rarely did because it was impossible to best his Atar at the instrument.

Reluctantly she kept her stories to herself and simply stated 'They seem like talented craftspeople and musicians.'

'So I have been told. Though sometimes I wonder was it all fairy-tales made up by my Ammë. See, I never met my Atar, so sometimes I wonder was he a decent ner at all. He never visited, he never even named me.' He said in slight bitterness, though it seemed exaggerated and... _acted._

Vayelya knew _exactly_ what he was up to. _He is trying to provoke a reaction to get me to spill more than what I have revealed. I gave myself away by the flute story. He thinks I know more than what I am letting on...he is right..._

_I cannot reveal who I am yet. It does not feel right..it is too much, too soon. He needs to focus on the Games!_

_Say what you will boy, I will not falter. You will understand and thank me later._

Vayelya feigned sympathy, the weak type a stranger has for one they do not know and, at the end if the day, do not care about. 'I know all about disappointing fathers. But what you will learn is that one does not necessarily need a particular 'father' or 'mother' figure in their life. It is nice, yes, but at the end of the day we choose the people we love, truly. I do not think there needs to be a blood relation for a family to exist.'

He seemed slightly taken aback. 'You mean an otorno or osellë?'

'Well it does not even have to be such a strong bond but, yes, that is a perfect example.' Vayelya shrugged, ignoring the panaic at the mention of osellë. _I hope his Ammë did not tell him any tales of me..._

'My Ammë had an osellë. As do I.' Her nephew began. Vayelya felt her stomach churn at the mention of herself. _Keep going Vayelya, you cannot falter now!_

'Exactly. I bet both you and your Ammë have as deep a bond with your osellës as though they were your sisters by blood.' Vayelya countered.

_Please drop the subject of family nephew!_

'With my osellë, yes, our bond is as strong as blood relation, perhaps stronger. My Ammë... I do not know...she left after the darkening. I believe she went across the sea.

Vayelya yet again found herself trying to look sympathetic, but not too sympathetic that she gave away her connection. 'I am sorry, I did not know...' She hoped that would be enough.

'Yes you did.'

He said it so calmly, no anger or temper or ill will in his tone at all. As if he was stating a simple, obvious fact. Vayelya was finally thrown off course.

'Excuse me..? I do not know what you mean..' she tried to sound as confused as possible.

Her nephew spoke. 'The necklace you are wearing. There were only two ever made. They were heirlooms to a small, but noble house. The Lord of the House had two children, the identical necklaces were passed on to them, his son and his daughter.'

_How did I forget about the damned necklace! Vayelya you fool! I have given myself away!_

Her nephew continued. 'The son, married an Avarin dancer and gave his necklace to her. A symbol that she belonged to the family if you like. His wife also happened to be an osellë to his sister, who held the other necklace. '

'They had been osellës long before the couple had met. I have heard countless tales of the mischief they got up to. One included attempting to sneak into a royal gathering disguised as princess Írissë and her 'friend from the woods'. The only reason it failed was because Írissë's eyes were blue, not a striking silver.'

He stared into her eyes for what felt like an eternity, as if confirming her eyes were as silver as his. She held her gaze, unbreakable.

She mustered the courage to speak, she knew she must do everything to convince him she was not the nís from his tales. 'I do think you are mistaken with another pendant. I swear it was not me you spoke of in those tales.'

She wanted the earth to swallow her as her nephew replied 'No, I am sure it is the right necklace.'

He proceeded to raise his hand over his back, reaching into his quiver, a small pocket stitched onto the side.

He produced the twin of her necklace and placed it on the table.

'My Ammë then passed the necklace to me, as a link to my house _...our house..._ '

He looked deep into her eyes. She knew at that moment he could read her like a book. Nothing she said would change what he knew to be the truth. He confirmed it as he opened his mouth and uttered one simple word.

_'...Aunt.'_

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To say Mahtan was in disbelief was an understatement. How?...How had he not seen it? It seemed so obvious now!

He had fueled the furnaces of the old forge...the forge where those accursed gems came to be. It was full of dust and melancholy, and a certain sad feeling one gets when visiting somewhere abandoned. A ghost of what it once was, the workshop seemed so empty, quiet. It was not right! A forge needed noise!

Now he faced the weapons which belonged to his great-granddaughter. So Nerdanel was right after all. It would be a lie to say he was not ecstatic, though very shocked at the news.

When he laid eyes on the huntress, for a minute he mistook her for Tyelko, before he realised this was in fact a nís, and slightly shorter. Nevertheless he was caught off guard. He had wholeheartedly believed, only seconds ago, that Tyelko's child was in Endor.

Of course he was stunned when he first saw her. She was so much like her Atar! How could her appearance, just as they were talking about her, not leave him frozen in place?

Nerdanel, bless her, jumped in and saved his backside.

He was just regaining his ability to speak when he noticed the bow she was carrying.

Mahtan had crafted that bow.

He had crafted it for Írissë.

Then the young huntress said something that shocked him to the very core, more than anything before.

_'Please be careful with my bow! It belonged to my Ammë.'_

_Her Ammë? But that is impossible!_ Mahtan thought to himself. _That bow belonged to...Írissë'_

Mahtan remembered what his daughter was attempting to break to him earlier.

_'What if the union was forbidden...? if the mother's family had just as much power as us...almost? What if there was no way Tyelko could introduce us to his daughter without risking the mother's family from finding out the truth, without perhaps risking his custody, and that of the mothers...'_

The answer clicked in Mahtans mind...

The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks...

He had _almost_ been prepared for the possibility of meeting Tyelko's child.

But Tyelko and _Írissë's_ daughter?

He was simply dumbstruck.

_My grandchildren will never cease to leave me stupefied, even when they are across the damn sea!_

The pieces of the puzzle, memories of the pair drifted in and out of Mahtan's mind. Nerdanel was _right!_ They were _blind!_

One such memory was the day he was 'commissioned' (though his client paid nothing) to craft the silver bow which now lay before him...

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Mahtan's forge, Y.T...

Mahtan briefly paused from his work to watch the mingling of the lights, marking the beginning of a new day.

The last few months had been quiet. Not that there was any lack of orders or work to be done. It had been quiet because his daughter, law-son and their seven sons (two of which were newly born) had moved from their home, a few leagues away, to the city.

Mahtan honestly did not want them to leave, but neither did they. However such was the price of being part of the Noldo royalty. The Crown Prince had been living in ignorant bliss for too long and his duties called in the city.

And so, they decided they would leave a mere few weeks after the Ambarussa were born. Mahtan smiled at the thought of those adorable twins. They would have grown much in the short time he had not seen them.

He had no sooner returned to his commission piece, when a familiar _bark_ sounded outside, with the unmistakable thunder of a steed.

Walking outside, he was almost knocked over as Huan pounced on Mahtan as if it was a thousand years since he had last seen him.

'Easy boy!' Mahtan scratched his ears fondly. 'I missed you too Huan.'

'This must be how my brothers feel when they say I care more for Huan than them!' A playful jest sounded to his right. He turned to see no other than Tyelkormo leap from his steed, coming from the woods in his hunting leathers, smirk on his face.

'Huan beat you to it. I did not see you racing as fast as he to greet me!'

'Huan's idea of a greeting is to make you fall on your arse! If I greeted you that way you would be floored in seconds _old ner._

Mahtan raised an eyebrow. ' Careful, _young princeling,_ I would not be long wiping that smirk from your pretty little face.

The two stared at each other, serious expressions on their faces, before bursting into hearty laughter. Mahtan clapped Tyelko on the shoulder and pulled him into an embrace.

'It is good to see you again, grandfather.'

'You too Tyelko. But tell me, was the city that bad that you have left it already? I thought you planned to stay at least a year before going near the woods?'

Tyelkormo pulled a face of pure disgust. 'The city is _crazy_ Haru! Everywhere I go people watch and bow and go out of their way to approach me! And do not get me started on the palace! Our aunts and uncles, sorry _half_ aunts and uncles look at us as if we have ten heads or something! They will not let us run, shout, jump...I even got told I was not allowed to go shirtless! It is _madness!_

Mahtan shook his head, holding back a laugh at the thought of the havoc Tyelko and his brothers must be wrecking in the opulent palace.

'Well it cannot be all bad can it? What about your cousins? There are many your age.'

Tyelko's face somehow became even more disgusted. He rolled his eyes.'They are the most _annoying, stuck up, idio..._

'Tyelko!' Mahtan tried not to laugh.

'Grandfather you would agree if you met them! Nolofinwë's sons are so full of themselves! They act as if they are superior to everyone!'

'I could say the same for you Tyelko.' Mahtan teased. He received a not too impressed look.

'The way I act is _different._ My cousins act like well...princes! In a bad way! They speak so fancy and live by ridiculous unspoken rules.

'It is called _manners_ and _etiquette._ And can you really judge them for their accents?

'Yes I can because they are irritating! And speaking of etiquette, Neylo, Kano, Moryo, Curvo and I are forced to sit through lessons on the damn thing! And it was just because the first day we ate with our hands at dinner! It was chicken! Why wouldn't we eat it with our hands?! '

'I am sure the five of you have managed to evade those lessons more times than you have attended them.' Mahtan was almost shaking in an effort to conceal his laughter at the dinner scene Tyelko had described.

'That is beside the point.'

'Well enough talk of such 'frustrating' matters. How are the babies?'

Tyelko smiled fondly, melancholy forgotten. 'Adorable, but two little shits at the same time! They are crawling now and will do anything to escape their cot. One night swear I saw Telvo giving Pityo a boost lift out! They always find ways to grab everyone's attention, and one cannot deny the mischief in those eyes.'

'Ai bless! Mahtan smiled. 'I must visit soon. I cannot believe they are already crawling. Where has the time gone?!'

'They are far from innocent! Tyelko warned. 'If you do visit, do not let the fact that they are only five months old fool you! All of us have fallen prey to their antics, which include one of them crying to distract you while the other escapes, the two of them screaming at the top of their lungs, only to fall dead silent the moment someone reaches their cot _and_ switching bibs so we will confuse one for the other!.'

'Curvo believes we have already mixed them up and that Telvo is actually Pityo and Pityo is Telvo, but that started an intense debate that went on for days and is still not finished."

'They do not cry much, but perhaps that is because of Kano using them as an excuse to sing lullabies all damn night! They make up for their crying with laughter. Every adult, even Finwë admits they have never seen a baby laugh as much as those two.

'They are also inseparable. They must be within arms reach of each other at all times, or else they roar so loud all of Tirion can hear them.'

'They sound wonderful. I cannot wait to see them.' Mahtan made a promise to himself to leave his work be for at least one week to visit the Ambarussa and the rest of his relations in the City, as soon as he finished up with his current projects.

'Actually Haru, perhaps you could visit next week?' Tyelko sounded cheerily.

'Next week? That is very short notice Indyo. I have work to do. I'd say it will be at least a month before I can get away from here!'

'You sound like Curvo! Please Haru! I have a favour to ask of you!' Tyelko pleaded.

'A favour?' Mahtan raised an eyebrow. 'What may that be?

'Well next week my cousin Írissë, Nolofinwë's daughter, comes of age. That is why I return home. I was hoping you would be able to craft her a bow? Silver would be nice.'

'I thought you hated your cousins?'

'Írissë is _different._ '

'Ai Indyo, you know it takes a week to travel to the city! I would have to craft the bow today and then leave immediately. Abandon all of my current projects! How long have you known she will be coming of age?' Mahtan felt a little stressed to say the least.

'About two months?'

 _'Two months!_ Tyelko did it not even occur to you to tell me any time _before_ the _last minute?'_

'I...I did not exactly take travel into account!'

'What about your Atar?'

'Although he likes Írissë, he refuses to craft anything for a child of Nolofinwë. And he is busy working on some shiny substance thing that has the light of the Trees in it.'

_Won't craft for Nolofinwë's House...Why am I not surprised?_

'Curvo could do it. He has already made many fine pieces.'

'Curvo refuses to even leave the forge while he is working on something. He is in the middle of a project for his precious apprenticeship and there is no way he would halt it for anyone!. He is worse than Atar I swear!

'No one can be worse at refusing to rest than your Atar. Tyelko, is this bow really necessary? I could craft you a simple jewellery piece in minutes and you could be on your way!.'

'Írissë hates jewellery. She would much prefer a bow I am sure! She can almost beat me at archery.'

 _'Almost?'_ Mahtan questioned, knowing full well what that word meant when it came out of Tyelko's mouth.

'Fine, she _beat me_ at archery' he mumbled, slightly annoyed.

'What if when you got back to Tirion you commissioned a smith there to craft it? They would go out of their way to complete it on time for their Prince.'

'Well...about that...' Tyelko raked a hand through his hair 'I am a little... _broke_ at the minute...'

_A little broke? Oh Please!_

'Tyelkormo how in the name of the Valar does a Prince find himself broke? Mahtan found it hard to believe him.

'Well we get paid for our 'duties', whatever they are, every three months. I.. may have made a bet with Moryo and lost.'

'You gambled all of it? Seriously Tyelko! You make more money in a few months than some people make in in five years! Why did you gamble it all away!

'Well in a way it was a competiton...from a certain point of view...' Tyelko said sheepishly.

'What does that mean?' Mahtan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

'Moryo and I..we decided to see how long we could go before one of us punched Angaráto, Arafinwë's son. I swear Moryo was about to lose, he was just on the edge of losing his cool! But then one morning I was in a bad mood Angaráto passed by me and... just the way he talked was so annoy...'

'For Eru's sake Tyelko! You do not make bets over punching someone. Especially your _cousin!'_

'Arafinwë's kids are worse than Nolofinwë's. They are so happy and friendly...but it is really annoying at the same time, do you know what I mean?'

'No Tyelko I dont. But I hope you have learned not to bet on something so ridiculous again, especially with your brother who can calculate probability in his head like the weather.'

'Yes Grandfather.' Tyelko muttered lowly. He could not have sounded more ungenuine if he tried.

Mahtan continued, shaking his head. 'Very well. I will craft the bow for the young Miss Írissë. But I will not be doing such a favour again! And you owe me Tyelko! I also expect my payment in three months time!'

'Ahhh' Tyelko began again. _What now?_ Mahtan thought. 'I thought this could be more of a family discount thing? You know, in Tirion there is this unspoken rule that you do not charge fam..'

'That rule does not apply when your grandson is a Prince. Silver is expensive! Why will you not have the money in three months?'

'I...' Tyelko coughed indiscreetly. 'I may have bet my wages for the next two years...'

Mahtan felt the urge to knock Tyelko's head off the wall. 'Was one punch really worth all of that money?'

'Yes' Tyelko said without thinking, His expression changed 'I mean no it was wrong, I..'

'Go before I change my mind.' Mahtan warned. 'Meet me at the Tirion marketplace next week.'

'Thank you Haru!' Tyelko gave Mahtan a fierce hug before leaping back on his steed and galloping off, Huan on his heels.

 _The little shit!_ Mahtan mumbled to himself, too fondly to be serious.

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Kyelaeron was dying from nerves.

_SHIT! If I have guessed wrong she may have me sent to Lord Irmo to get my head examined!_

_But...it all adds up... the necklace, the silver eyes and dark hair, the petite figure... she matches Ammë's description perfectly._

_Then again Ammë did say she was a lady...this nís is a craftswoman._

_Dark hair is common among the Noldor..._

_But the EYES! And the Necklace! And she makes flutes for Eru's sake!_

_Perhaps I should not have gone so far as to call her aunt..._

A moment ago he was so certain this nís was his Aunt, the carefree, mischievous,and surprisingly fierce osellë his mother had told him stories. Now however, he was beginning to panaic, though he did not show it. The nís had simply been staring at him for at least a minute and... he did not know what in Arda she was thinking.

He had no idea when Vána sent him here that he would run into a potential long lost relative. But then he had entered the workshop and noticed the stunned expression that betrayed Vayelya's emotions. He thought it to be the shock of seeing a hunter. But then he saw her eyes...silver eyes... and he remembered what his Ammë had told him years ago, as she held him close, saying farewell and pressing the pendant into his shaking palm.

_'Do not weep for me Kyelaeron, how I hate to see such sorrow in your beautiful eyes! You have been blessed with the rarest eyes in all the land, onya. They are a link to who you are. They belonged to your Atar and your Aunt and were passed on to you. Unique features such as yours are a gift, though not for mere beauty or aesthetic value alone. Your silver eyes mean that a part of your Atar will always be with you...no matter how far apart the world sets you from each other...As will I'_

Kyelaeron knew that of course it was possible for someone else not related to him to have silver eyes. But this nís had eyes the exact same as him, down to the tiny specks of sea blue.

Then Vayelya told him the story of a ner, who danced and played music _... his Atar?..._ breaking his leg with a flute. He vaguely recalled his Ammë scolding him for trying to snap a branch on his knee, saying that his Atar had made that mistake many years ago, and that she would not be so forgiving should he repeat such an 'idiotic' action.

And then he saw the pendant which hung from a silver chain on her neck and he knew. This _had to_ be the nís he had heard so much about. It simply had to!

_This could not be a mere coincidence...could it?_

So, Kyelaeron spilled truths about his childhood to this stranger that he had only ever told Aranya. He thought he should feel uncomfortable telling such personal details, but somehow it felt right. He trusted his instincts.

She did a good job hiding her reaction. She played the part of pitying stranger well. But he did not miss the slight twitch of her hand as he suggested his Atar may not have cared, or the slight tremble in her voice as she claimed her necklace was not the pendant he spoke of.

Now however, Kyelaeron's adrenaline had all but fled and he began to wonder had he merely seen and heard things he wanted to. He was losing confidence each passing second Vayelya continued to relentlessly stare at him.

He was about to open his mouth to apologise, to give in, mutter an excuse about the excitement and festivities of the Games messing with his head.

But Vayelya beat him to it.

'I...I am so sorry I lied.' She gasped suddenly, tears in her distinctive eyes. Kyelaeron was frozen in place. Now that he was actually hearing what he wanted to hear he was...scared. Who knew what the truth would reveal? He let Vayelya continue.

'I did not know I had a nephew until five years ago. I heard a rumour of your existence, the real reason your Atar never met you and... I was _horrified._ '

Kyelaeron felt his chest tighten...what did that mean?

'I thought of leaving for the woods to find you, but I was afraid. How does one introduce themselves someone they should have known from birth, who now has a life of their own?'

 _I am face to face with a blood relative_...Kyelaeron could barely register the fact that someone from his House, his family, was right here in front of him. It was surreal.

'Then I heard the Games were recommencing. I knew I had to see you, prove the rumour true. And so I stood in the square and watched. I raked my eyes through each and every hunter until I found you and, my Eru, the resemblance to your Atar gave you away immediately.'

_I look like my Atar? Well I suppose I never looked much like Ammë..._

_I still cannot believe this is my Aunt! This is the nís that once told Kanafinwë Makalaurë that his music was as depressing as Lady Nienna!_

'I did not want to reveal the truth to you until after the Games. I did not want to distract you from your competition.'

'But it would be a lie to say that was the only reason. I was _weak._ I was so afraid that you would hate me, push me away, because I should have been there for you from the day you were born, but because of my ignorance to the world around I did not even know you were there for me to protect.'

_Aunt why are you so distraught? You said yourself you did not know until only five years ago! It was not your fault! And I was happy in the woods anyway!_

_To simply know there is someone here on these shores is enough...it means the world..._

'I have been on my own since the flight. I...I miss having family, and I accepted you as my nephew the moment I laid eyes on you.I want you to know am here for you... but I know it is hard to forgive me...I should have known you were alive much sooner...and...I understand if you do not wish to speak to me ever again...I am sor...

Kyelaeron could not restrain himself any longer. He put an end to Vayelya's emotional rant and fears by promptly pulling her into a fierce embrace and twirling her in the air. The nís.. _my Auntie!_... let out a whelp of surprise before he set her down.

Kyelaeron was lost for words. _All the times I imagined meeting a family member and now that it has actually happened I am speechless!_ 'Aunt...you are my _Aunt._ ' He grinned like a fool.

His heart melted at the way Vayelya's face lit up and mirrored his grin, as she realised he longed for family as much as she.

No words needed to be spoken. The pair simply embraced and laughed.

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Nerdanel led Siofra into the main living room. A cozy place with a hearty fire roaring and patchwork throws on various size and shape chairs. There was a very large bookshelf, with a massive variety of literature; politics, music, mathematics, embroidery, smithing, sculpting and even a few children's stories.

Her granddaughter seemed in awe at what Nerdanel would have thought a fairly simple but artistic home. She drank in every detail. She strolled around touching and examining certain ornaments, looking under tables and the curtains.

Nerdanel smoothered a laugh. This behaviour would have been branded as rude, perhaps nosy but Nerdanel knew this was Siofra's first time in a fairly 'normal' house. Whats more, she knew Siofra had been raised as far away from society as possible, it would take a little time for certain unspoken rules and protocols to kick in, if they ever did.

She let her be. 'I will prepare us some tea moina, feel free to read any of the books while you are waiting.'

'Are there any about hunting?' the young nís asked. Nerdanel stopped for a minute, scanning the bookshelf. There was books about nearly every other topic that any of her family had the slightest bit of interest in. _Except_ hunting. Nerdanel knew _why._

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_A few leagues from Aulë's forge, Y.T..._

'TURCAFINWË TYELKORMO! WILL YOU SIT STILL! The sooner you finish the book the sooner you can go outside and I can go back to my work!'

'Ammë reading is the most _useless thing_ and a complete waste of time! In the woods I do not read to learn how to set traps, shoot an arrow, spring a bear...'

'Tyelkormo tell me you did _not_ fight a bear! You are far too young! You only started your training a year ago!'

'It was no big deal Ammë. I had him taken down in seconds!'

'HE COULD HAVE KILLED YOU IN SECONDS! Your impulsive attitude will be your demise! There is a line between bravery and stupidity!'

'HHmmph' It was all Nerdanel could do not to slap him as he rolled his eyes to the heavens, leaned back on his chair and stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to even look at the page in front of him.

'Someday you will have children of your own and you will understand why I worry.'

'I will not have children, and if I do they will be out hunting bears, not stuck inside learning how to read!'

_Nelyo and Kano were nowhere near as difficult as him at this age!_

'Speaking of wasting time, you do realise I too would rather not be here?'

'Then let me go! I have read enough already.'

'Tyelko you struggled to read the _first sentence!_ You are not even trying! Moryo can barely reach your hip and yet can read better than you!

'But can Moryo fight a bear? No.'

'BECAUSE HE IS A _CHILD!_ AN INFANT CHILD IS MORE LITERATE THAN YOU! You are at the end of your childhood Tyelko, does it not concern you in the least that you are practically illiterate!?

'No because I don't need literacy to hunt.'

Nerdanel drew in a deep breath.

_Thank Eru I did not ask Fëanáro to try to teach him. I would not like to see the outcome, especially if Tyelko had the nerve to antagonise his Atar the way he is antagonising me now._

_Arguing and anger will not work on Tyelko, He is too stubborn, too 'unafraid'. I have to get to the bottom of this gently, as if I was talking to a stray dog!_

'Look Tyelko,' she began softly. ' I know you are determined, strong minded and smart and yes, books are unnecessary when it comes to the path you have chosen. But you will soon be an adult, and we must not forget that you are a Prince, as much as you wish you were not.

'I know you are the most competitive out of the four of my sons. And I know that you do not like to be bested at anything, especially by someone less than half your age! So why onya? Why do you insist on not reading? I know it requires much patience and stillness, but so does hunting. If you tried for as little as half an hour each day you would improve so much!

Tyelko was silent, staring at the floor for a few moments. Nerdanel waited for him to reply.

'I wouldn't' He hoarsely whispered.

'What do you mean?' Nerdanel asked softly.

'I wouldn't improve, no matter how much I practised. You would not understand. You probably would not believe me'

'I can try onya, please tell me why you cannot progress.'

Tyelko seemed reluctant to divulge, but on seeing that Nerdanel would not take no for an answer, he replied.

'I look at the page and the letters are there. And then, when I try to make sense of them, it is as if they change shape in my head, they turn around, flip upside down, back to front and suddenly the words and letters I know are not there. They are unrecognisable. It takes ages to read and re-read even one word, until I understand its meaning.'

Nerdanel was shocked. She had not heard of such a condition before. She could not believe Tyelko had kept it a secret for all these years... All the times herself and Fëanáro had told him off for not paying enough attention to his studies! They thought it was simply Tyelko being Tyelko, wanting to go outside and run wild rather than sit and study. Little did they know it was not his fault.

'Onya, why did you not tell me this before? If Atar and I had known we would have helped you.'

'I do not need help..I...' Tyelko began a bit too hastily.

'To ask for help when you need it is not a weakness Tyelko, the sooner you realise that the better.'

'Hhmmph'.

Nerdanel wished he would stop with the 'hmmphs'- he was beginning to sound too much like Oromë

'I will speak to your Atar. He invented the alphabet we use after all, I am sure he will have some ideas on how to assist your learning. For now, go on, find Huan and run around, do what you wish, the two of us have been cooped up here long enough for today.'

Tyelko smiled -not a smirk- a genuine, heartfelt _smile._ Nerdanel found herself caught off guard as he suddenly ran into her and gave her a fierce hug.

Valar, he was getting tall, he soon would pass her out.

'Thanks Ammë.' He whispered. Nerdanel laughed. 'You silly lamb! You should have told me this years ago!'

As he flew out of the room. He skidded to a halt and turned, pleadingly. 'Do not tell Nelyo and Kano.'

'I promise I would not dream of it.' Nerdanel assured him.

She shook her head as she added yet another secret to the long list in her head of things her sons had ordered her _never_ to tell their brothers.

_My boys, your pride will be the death of you all!_

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_Tirion First Age 505..._

'No I do not believe there are any hunting books. Tyelkormo had a more hands-on approach when it came to learning skills.' Nerdanel answered her grandchild, wondering where the years had gone since that day Tyelko had finally confessed he needed help learning how to read.

'I see', answered Siofra, strolling over to the shelf. Nerdanel saw her flip through a few pages of a politics book, before putting it aside and choosing another, which she seemed to prefer. The nís then stretched out on the long couch in the centre of the room. Feet up, not a notion of the many reasons why such a position would be unmannerly in a stranger's home. Nerdanel smiled.

'This chair is so comfortable! And this room! There is so much space to sit!' Siofra seemed so impressed by the little things. _Wait till you see the palace child!_

'It was once cramped and noisy.' Nerdanel said sadly as she left for the kitchen.

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'So Atar...he went across the ice with the Host of Nolofinwë?' Kyelaeron could not hide the disappointment in his voice.

Vayeyla nodded sadly. 'I pleaded with him not to but his mind was made up I am afraid.'

'And then he drugged you.' Her nephew smirked. He had found that story way too funny for Vayelya's liking. _Not to worry. I will make up for it by telling more embarrassing stories of dear hanno._

'And then he drugged me' Vayelya sighed. She lifted her head up from her work. She had finally finished the flute, after much pleasant distraction, a mixture of questions from her nephew and storytelling on her part.

She had avoided the topic of why her brother never knew his son however, successfully for the time being.

She gasped. A realisation hit her. 'My goodness! I never asked what was your name!'

Her nephew laughed. 'I forgot to mention it. How rude of me. Ammë named me Kyelaeron.

'Silver song of the sea... So poetic, typical of my osellë. It suits you perfectly!'

Neither spoke their thoughts. There was no father name.

_Technically I am the closest and only relative to his father he has left. I could name him if I wished...If he wished.._

_No. It does not feel right. To name him would mean I had given up on my brother ever returning.I will not lose hope..._

Vayelya stood, and handed Kyelaeron his newly crafted flute. The ner examined it as though it were a complicated masterpiece.

'It feels exactly like my old one. Thank you.'

He flashed another brilliant pearly smile.

'Do not be shy, I want to hear you play! Go on! If you can perform for Tirion you can perform for me.'

Vayelya was curious as to how talented this young ner really was. She was testing him. _I wonder is he as good as hanno..._

'Very well Auntie, if you insist.' He took a deep breath and began to play.

Vayelya felt her breath being swept away. Her chest tightened, full of nostalgia, sorrow and...hope.

She knew the melody all too well. _The Water Song._ A Song passed down through her House...only known by members of the House. A secret heirloom that could be shared by all, if you like.

His long fingers expertly moved swiftly as flowing streams over the openings. His breath never faltered as he played the sweet melody. He was as good as her hanno, and this ner was younger...much younger.

Her eyes were glistening a little more than usual once he finished. She applauded him.

'That was the first time someone has even come close to performing as skilled as your Atar, perhaps better.' She insisted

He lowered his gaze and smiled sheepishly. He was clearly not one to handle praise. 'Thank you'.

'How much do I owe you for the flute Auntie?' Vayelya was surprised he even suggested such a thing. There was no way she was going to charge him!

' I do not charge family. ' She simply stated.

He protested 'But..you crafted...'

'Please Kyelaeron, it is a gift. Now as much as I would like to keep you here and tell stories all night, I believe you have a show to get to..hmm?'

'Ai Eru I almost forgot!' He shook his head. 'I will bid you farewell then Vayelya. I am so glad to have met you, no matter how unexpected our encounter.' He hugged her again as they said goodbye.

'Our first meeting went better than I had dared to hope. Remember, if you need anything I am always here. You must visit again, perhaps after the Games when you are not so busy. I wish you the best of luck, my nephew. I will be supporting you all the way.' She embraced him again. Why not? He was short seven hundred years of hugs from her.

She cupped his cheek and smirked. 'Your Atar made it to the final the year he competed, with the warriors. He was bet by Tyelkormo and Írissë, you probably heard of them in your woods. I never let him live it down, so I suggest you _win_ nephew, or else face my unyielding teasing for the rest of your days!'

He laughed yet again. _Such a melodic laugh..._ 'I will do my best Aunt! Atar competed? He made it to the final? Wait...I was born before the Games Tyelkormo won!

'Aye, you were.' Vayelya sighed sadly. 'But he did not know.'

'Why?' The desperate look in his eyes made Vayelya's heart sink.

_One simple word as a question has such a complicated answer._

'I swear I will tell you. But _after_ the Games. You have already learned so much new information today. You will be overwhelmed if I tell you now.'

'I promise you that your Atar would have been the kindest, fiercest, most loving father. If he had known you existed, he would have never stopped searching the woods until he found you. He would have loved you... _so much.'_

'But your Ammë had a good reason to flee and keep you a secret. A reason I will reveal another time, when we are prepared with a few bottles of mirúvorë, hangover tea and flutes.

'Very well Vayelya, as long as it is soon.' Kyelaeron could not hide the slight disappointment in his voice. His eyes widened in curiosity 'Why flutes?'

'Because the tale I have to tell you will anger both myself and you greatly. I do not know about you, but I find splitting flutes on my knee a wonderful way to release my rage!'

She sounded so serious. Kyelaeron honestly believed she was capable of such a feat. He knew from his Ammë's tales that one did not antagonise Vayelya without paying the price.'

Nevertheless he laughed. 'Goodbye Auntie Vayelya. Enjoy the festivities. Easy on the mirúvorë!'

'I could say the same to you Kyelaeron!' She shouted out the door as he walked away. He turned and smirked.

Vayelya returned to her work, a weight lifted from her chest. She subconsciously hummed the Water song as she crafted.

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Nerdanel returned with refreshments for her unexpected guest and found her engrossed in a book about embroidery, one of Carnistir's it seemed. The page she was studying had a large, detailed sketch of what Nerdanel believed to be a work of Míriel's. It depicted the hither shores, the forests, the wildlife and of course the elves being greeted by no other than Oromë, their saviour. Her Atar had told her the story a hundred times.

Setting down the tray, Nerdanel asked Siofra 'Do you like embroidery?'

'Embroidery?' She replied, puzzled, almost as if she was unsure what it was. 'That is a type of sewing isn't it? I can sew but I never really had much interest in the art other than for practical uses. No I cannot say I do like embroidery.' She continued reading...or _looking at pictures_...on the page of the book that had, clear as day 'EMBROIDERY' written on the cover.

Nerdanel chuckled to herself. She was not fooled. So Tyelkormo was telling the truth when he said his children would be hunting bears before reading!

'That book looks interesting.' Nerdanel began. 'What is it about?'

_It is wrong of me to tease her so but it is also rather funny!_

In fairness to the young nís, she did make a decent attempt of a guess. 'It is... a... _history_ book. It is telling of Cuiviénen and the Great Journey.'

_What a chancer, just like Tyelko!_

'Is that right?' Nerdanel hid her smug grin with a teacup. Siofra put the book down and began to drink.

Nerdanel decided it was time to tell her granddaughter a story.

'My son, Tyelkormo struggled to read from a young age. After many years, we discovered it was because whenever he looked at a page with writing, the letters would jumble up in his mind. My husband created a system which made it easier for him to decipher words and eventually would have resulted in him being able to read as well as anyone.'

'When you say jumbled up do you mean they would change when he looked at the letters and words? So much that they were unrecognisable?' Siofra uttered very quickly.

'Exactly', Nerdanel nodded. 'Why do you ask.'

Her granddaughter did not think to hide the panaic that crossed her face. 'My... Otorno... He told me that is what happens when he tries to read.'

'Really? ' replied Nedanel.

'Yes but do not tell anyone. It is embarrassing for me... sorry, _him'_

'There are many forms of intelligence Siofra, not just the traditional sense. I bet your _otorno_ would know what to do if attacked by a wild beast. The same could not be said for some of the brightest scholars in the city.'

_You poor moina! Do not think your are not smart! There is no need to be embarrassed._

Siofra looked very intrigued. 'Did the system work. Was Tyelkormo then able to read? What exactly is the system?'

Nerdanel shook her head, slightly irritated at the memory that came to mind. 'He was never very patient and by the time we discovered he needed help he was already a follower of Oromë. Between going to and fro from the woods, attending court duties and looking after both Huan and his younger brothers, he never made the effort to fully learn. Though the little study he did do helped him greatly.'

'I can show you the system now if you wish. Fëanáro wrote it all in a book. I knew it would not come to waste!'

'What do you mean 'not come to waste' ' Siofra questioned, puzzled.

'Dear, the book you were looking at pictures in was about embroidery, it is written on the cover. The pictures are drawings of tapestries, many with historic depictions embroidered into woven cloth, such as Cuiviénen. I know elflings are educated in the Woods, so you should be able to read... _Unless_ you, had a learning difficulty, such as what hindered Tyelko from reading. It is nothing to be ashamed of, trust me. You just need a little _help._ '

'How...how did you know...?' Siofra looked stunned. 'No one knows, except my otorno...well I think Oromë knows too but he never cared much for books.'

'I did not raise seven boys without learning a trick or two.' Nerdanel replied warmly. 'Now shall we begin lesson number one?'

'Yes! Siofra exclaimed, with an enthusiasm to learn literature her Atar never had. 'Thank you'.

'It is my pleasure moina.' Nerdanel fetched the dusty book from the shelf and set it down on the table, along with a quill, ink and spare parchment.

'Nerdanel' Siofra started, voice suddenly uneasy. 'Do not tell anyone I cannot read, please.'

'I would not dare, child' Nerdanel almost shook her head as 'the list' of secrets she _must not_ share had something added to it after years of nothing.

_That damn, stubborn Fëanorion pride!_ She thought to herself. 

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Quenya Translations:

Haru- Grandfather

Indyo- Grandchild

Moina- dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter to date! I could have split it in two and posted over two weeks but I was like 'Nah, if I was a reader I would hate to have to wait when the chapter is sitting there waiting to be updated.'
> 
> So! Mahtan has been rendered speechless! Nerdanel is just there like 'Ha! I was right! I am not crazy!'
> 
> Siofra not knowing how to handle visiting is such a mood.
> 
> I love Nerdanel as a warm, loving granny.(It feels weird calling her a granny though, like she's too young...but she's not...ya get me?)I think the reading lessons were so cute.
> 
> Also Siofra selling Kyelaeron out straight away like 'Yeah I totally can read, its my really dumb otorno that can't.' Kyelaeron just there rolling his eyes.
> 
> Sorry not sorry for a few unnecessary anecdotes. Baby Ambarussa is just too cute to not write five paragraphs. And the 'punch Angaráto' bet was too good to omit.
> 
> Is it bad that immature, adolescent Tyelko refusing point blanc to study because he wants to go run around outside reminds me of myself?
> 
> Kyelaeron and Vayelya! The truth (well a part of it anyway) has been revealed. Kyelaeron is way too sharp to be fooled. It was like he was a detective or something figuring it out!
> 
> Kyelaeron's family apparently like to make and break flutes!
> 
> I probably talk about the silver eyes way too much but oh well. They were necessary to link nephew to aunt.
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story to date. Please review and Happy Halloween!
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	9. Family Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reading lessons continue. Siofra remembers a few visitors she had as a little girl. Kyelaeron steals hearts with his dance abilities. Anairë speculates. Siofra gets recognised by _alot_ of people. Eru is impressed at a certain fated ner's resistance to pain. A new OC has a bad temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Back! Its been a while- university decided to give me an assignment in every module all due the same week. FFS! Anyway... work over and done with here's chapter 9. Enjoy!

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

'F-I-N-W-Ë, M-Í-R-I-E-L SE-RI-N-DË, I-N-D-I-S O-OF TH-E V-AN-YAR!' 

‘So does that mean that really Míriel was the true Queen, since she was Finwë’s first wife?’ Siofra asked, sounding so genuine in her questioning. 

_You have no idea how proud Fëanáro would be of you for making such a statement..._ It took all of Nerdanel’s willpower to answer ‘No. The Valar allowed Finwë to wed Indis, after Míriel passed, thus she had as much power, and the same standing as Míriel had. In fact, since Míriel refused re-embodiment, technically Indis is the one who holds more power as regards Noldo politics.' 

Nerdanel could feel Fëanáro glaring at her, albeit in her imagination

'C-UR-U-F-IN-W-Ë, FI-N-DI-S, N-OL-O-F-I-N-WË, L-AL-WEN-D-Ë, A-R-A-F-IN-WË.' 

Nerdanel was impressed. They had only been a few hours at work and yet Siofra had already written out the alphabet successfully, as well as master the 'sound it out' method. Fëanáro knew what he was doing when he invented this system, for sure. _If only Tyelko had tried as hard as Siofra...Valar, how is he coping without letters now? Perhaps Huan reads to him!_

She smirked at the idea. There was something about Huan that gave her the feeling he knew more than what he let on, he was no ordinary hound for sure. 

Having her granddaughter read and memorise the Noldo royal family tree seemed a good idea. To think she had mistaken Nerdanel for Anairë! Valar, Nerdanel could not have Siofra mix up Indis and Míriel, or worse, Fëanáro and Nolofinwë, especially when the Games meant potential royal encounters, if Siofra proved herself as good a huntress as her Atto and Ammë. 

Nerdanel stomped away the idea that she was doing this for Fëanáro, because he probably would have cancelled the Games to teach Siofra himself if he knew is own grandchild could barely tell the difference between he and his _half_ brother. 

'N-E-RD-AN-EL, AN-A-IR-Ë, E-ÄR-WEN' 

'Valar, how many royals are there!? I am not even halfway through!' Siofra exclaimed. 

'Blame Fëanáro and I if you wish.' Nerdanel muttered smugly. 

Siofra comprehended the implication immediately, her eyes widening with mischief and a giggle escaping her lips. Nerdanel joined her, and felt like a young nís again, amused by nothing. 

Siofra continued, silvery curls spilling over the page, casting shadows. 

'NEL-YA-FI-N-W-Ë, KA-NA-FIN-WË, TUR-CA-FI-N-WË, MO-RIF-IN-WË...wait why did you stick _Finwë_ at the end of all your sons names? 

_Because a certain paranoid Crown Prince thought it necessary imply constantly, even through the names of our children, who was the heir of Finwë._ Nerdanel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Herself and Fëanáro had always clashed when it came to naming their sons. Thank Eru the Noldo used two names! 

'You do not want to know.' Nerdanel shook her head, how Fëanáro was able to test her patience still. 'Those are their father names, though the boys shortened them unofficially, by cutting out the 'Finwë', creating an epessë from the remainder. I had nothing to do with the excessive use of 'Finwë', believe me.' She raised her palms, claiming innocence. 

Siofra continued 'C-UR-U-FINWË...another one?' She raised an eyebrow. 

'Curufinwë is Fëanáro's father name, though he opted to use his mother name both as Prince and smith. He gave his father name to our fifth son, who resembled him greatly.' 

'I see' said Siofra, her brow furrowed in thought. 'So younger Curufinwë's epessë would have been...? she asked casually. 

'Curvo' replied Nerdanel, who watched Siofra freeze for a split second. 'Why do you ask?' 

'Just curious', she shrugged, refusing to make eye contact. 

Nerdanel had witnessed Írissë's manner of acquiring information too many times to not be suspicious of the tone Siofra took. 

Nerdanel was going to leave it be, Siofra did not have to divulge everything to her if she did not wish to, she had only just met her after all. 

However, said nís suddenly piped up 'What did Curvo look like?' 

_Well Írissë would have been much more discreet than that...she has as much patience as her Atar it seems._

Nerdanel raised an eyebrow, but answered nonetheless. 'He had raven hair, that fell straight and grey eyes. His build and height was smaller than his older brothers, save Kano perhaps, but he was as muscular as Tyelko, Turcafinwë that is, thanks to his work in the forge.' 

Siofra's expression turned even more perplexed. 'He was a smith too?' Her eyes widened. 

'Aye. If you don't mind me asking, why do you ask.? 

Siofra seemed reluctant or uncertain to voice her mind, but Nerdanel could tell that at the same time, she needed to spill her thoughts. 

Curiosity defeated her in the end. 

'Sometimes my Atar would bring his brother along with him when he came to see me. He was a smith, and would gladly take orders from the elders for weapons and things they needed fixing. He had dark hair too.' Siofra appeared lost in thought, as if remembering intricate details she had forgotten. 

Nerdanel felt panic rise in her chest. She did not know how she was to reveal Siofra's lineage, but she knew it would have to be done gently, after some time of getting to know her. Here and now was simply too much, too soon. And Siofra appeared to be more than half as much of a 'hasty riser' as her Atar. 

'Well dark hair is quite common for the Noldor, and there are many smiths. It is probably a mere coincidence.' 

Siofra finally made eye contact with her, and Nerdanel saw a flash of realisation, of the brilliance that Fëanáro had in his eye whenever he had formed a new idea, or worked out a problem. 

Her gaze was fixed on Nerdanel, eyes sure but voice uncertain. 

'I called him Uncle Curvo.' 

sSSSSssSsSSssSsSsssS 

_The Void, where time is irrelevant..._

_Cold dark empty void dark black cold torn dark torn lost nothing torn dark burnt dark torn...torn dark TORN TORN TORN!_

He knew he was going insane, if he still had the capacity to do so. 

_Whatever I did in my previous life must have been horrific indeed._

_This is the worst fate one can bring upon themselves._

_Fate...fate...Fated_

_Fated...someone once called me fated...someone wise..._

_U...Um...Umbarto._

_...and someone proud refused to believe those words...changed them_

_A..Ambarto._

_But Umbarto was my true name...fated..._

_...Maybe this was always how it would end, regardless of what I did in life...There is always some truth in names..._

_...Names...I had many..._

Excitement coursed through his pitiful existence...he had found a new game. 

A memory game... 

...of _names..._

_Let's begin with me...Umbarto..._

_...I never used that name...there was another I used much more often...Little...Little...something...? Pit...ya..OUCH!...something?_

_Pitya and someone else's name at the end..._

He gave up on that name. At least he had half of it guessed. 

_I shared a name also...with...AAAHHHGGHH OUCH!_

A sharp pain ripped its way through his sorrowful fëa. Hot knives were piercing him slowly... it hurt hurt HURT! 

It _tore..._

_I shared a name with the one I am torn- TORN! -from..._

Everytime his musings lingered on the tear in his fëa, the pain recommenced, each time more agonising than the last. 

But he was not giving up that easily. 

After a time, pain was better than nothing. 

_Torn torn torn Telv...TORN! AAAAGGHHHAGGGHH AAAAHHHHGGHH ERU PLEASE STOP!_

_Eru..that was another name..._

_Who is Eru?...not who I am looking for...I am looking for my...Aahhhgggh!_

Eru had something to do with the fate he now endured. He knew it. 

But he had more pressing matters at hand. 

He tried again. 

He refused to bend to the pain. His doomed fëa burned with a stubborn unyielding light, unbending in the face of agony, a brightness only seen before in his father and eldest brother. The pain would not defeat him! He was a child of... 

**_AAAGGGHHHHHH STOP NO NO AHHHHHGHHHH AAAAAAHHHGGGGGHH!_**

_I AM A CHILD OF **FINWË!** _

Finwë! that was another name! _...grandfather? AAAHHHGGHH_

_Grandfather.... **MAHTAN** AAAAAAHHHGGGGGHH! _

_What other names do I know?_

_**AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHH PLEASE AGGHHHHHHGHAAAA** _

_**REMEMBER DAMN IT! HURTS!** _

_I AM THE SEVENTH SON OF **NERDANEL ISTARNIË** AND **CURUFINWË FËANARO!** _

_**AAAAAAAGGGHHHH** I BEG YOU STOP! ERU MAKE IT STOP.!... _

_I HAVE **SIX** OLDER **BROTHERS**... _

The pain worsened, as if the knives were dipped in acid... 

_**NELYAFINWË MAITIMO!** _

The pain increased tenfold. He did not know such suffering was possible. 

_**KANAFINWË MAKALAURË!** _

He needed to stop. His fëa could not bear it. He entire existence was sheer agony, the nothingness seemed like bliss compared to this... 

_**TURCAFINWË TYELKORMO** , father of **SIOFRA ARAN..YYAAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!** _

He needed to stop. But he wanted to get answers. 

_**MORIFINWË CARNISTIR!** _

He had come this far...no point stopping now... 

_**CURUFINWË ATARINKË!** _

And _finally..._

As he tried to remember the final name, the final brother, he finally cracked. Little did he know the physical torment that overcame him was worse than what his eldest brother had suffered when tortured. However, it was not half as damaging, for how could a wretched soul as his become more damaged than it already was? 

_**No no NOOOOOO! AAAAGGGHHHHAHHHAGGHHHHH AGGHHHHAAAA AAAAAAAHHHHHH! TORNTORNTORNTORNTORNINTWO!** _

_My sixth brother...Tel... **Aaaaagghhhaa AAAAGGGGGHHHHH WE WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE SEPARATED, TORN! OUR FËAR WERE CONNECTED ..WE...WERE...T..T..T** _

_**AAAAAAHHHGGGGGHH** _

He wept, bawled, cried - or would have had he been able. 

_**TWINS! WE WERE TWINS!** _

Only Eru knew the extent of agony this fëa was in. Such was the cruel nature of the void. Torturous pain was used to prevent one remembering those they had loved, to make their suffering that little bit more harsh. It was a punishment meant for fallen Vala, perhaps Maia, not any Elda. 

The fact that Pityafinwë Umbarto Ambarussa had managed to remember snippets of his old life, along with his family members, save the one he was closest to, the most painful one, was remarkable. Not even Fëanáro had achieved this in the all the time he had been trapped in the darkness. 

_PItyafinwë's resistance to pain is incredible..._

Yet Eru had come to realise that when it came to the line of Finwë, nothing was impossible. 

He had to admit, he was impressed. If this fëa could endure such agony, surely the oath would be nothing in comparison? 

The death of Pityafinwë Ambarussa had been unique in that, in the history of the Eldar, his fate was the only one that Eru had not expected. 

He knew Umbarto was indeed fated, as were all of his House, he thought he knew exactly how Fëanáro's youngest would meet said fate. 

_It was not ships and flames and a tragic, reckless accident I foresaw...it was a massacre, a planned attack, not on the sons of Fëanáro, but by the sons of Fëanàro...the ones that were left..._

_It turned into a battle._

_The two eldest lost and found pair of twins that day..._

_The Ambarussa were lost that day...together._

_I was so certain that was their fate...how could I have been mistaken? Something here is not right, Pityafinwë still has a role to play in the music..._

The unexpected death of Pityafinwë Umbarto had resulted in an unpleasant discord indeed. Without him, would the fate of Arda be the same? Eru knew the smallest and most insignificant fëa could change the fate of the world. The smallest voice added to the melody could alter his song completely. 

And the impact of a child of Fëanáro was by no means small, in any way. 

A solution to this problem slowly made its way into Eru's mind. It was simple really...as easy as a four-bar tune. 

Pityafinwë needed to return to Arda. He was never meant to be sent to the void... _yet._

_Why such an accident, an error, discord occurred I do not know...Surely there must be a reason...All will be revealed...but for now surely..._

_...Surely a will so strong would be of better use away from this desolate place._

_The Halls at least..._

Or maybe... _perhaps not_ the Halls... 

Perhaps in the fight against darkness, against Eru's own fallen child. He showed enough resistance to prove himself here... 

Eru watched a little longer. If this ner could remember the name of his twin...with whom he had a bond so deep that remembering him was a near impossible feat...if he could remember him then that settled it. 

If Pityo could remember Telvo, Eru Ilúvatar was releasing him from the void. 

_Fated he may have been, may still be, but he was never meant to be torn from his twin...They were born together..._

_And they will die together..._

sSsSsSssSSssSsSssSsSSsSsSssSssSSsSs 

_Tirion... First Age 505..._

Nerdanel, for the first time in her life, was at a loss over what to say and do. Her wisdom flew away with the wind. _Uncle Curvo... how in the name of the Silmarils does one attempt to cover up that?_

She was silent for a brief moment, a moment which would have been longer had Mahtan not chosen that exact time to arrive into the sitting room, mended weapons in tow. 

On seeing her weapons, Siofra seemed to forget her dilemma, and rushed over to inspect Mahtan's handiwork. 

'Thank you so much! They are wonderful! Just like new! I didn't realise they could be that shiny! I really must clean them more!' 

Mahtan still seemed to have lost his tongue. 

She twirled her dagger expertly in the air. _..wait...no..._ thought Nerdanel... _she is twirling the dagger just like..._

'Speaking of Uncle Curvo, this is a trick he taught me. Ammë nearly had his head, I was only thirty years old at the time!' 

Mahtan's eyes widened even more at this anecdote. Nerdanel desperately caught his gaze. _Atar...help me here...she remembers Curvo...I do not know what to do...! '_

That seemed to wake the master smith up. He stroked his beard for a moment. 'Curvo you say... I knew him...a brilliant craftsman. He was born and raised a few leagues outside the city, with his brothers. ' 

Siofras eyes widened for what seemed like the hundredth time, however, there was a twinge of relief in that gaze. 'You knew my uncle...?' 

'Aye I did. He was a fellow smith. Though he and his brothers left in the ships during the Flight' Mahtan replied. 

Nerdanel could not be more grateful for her Atar's quick thinking. He was telling the truth, but in a manner which made it seem that 'Uncle Curvo' was a completely different person to Curufinwë Atarinkë. 

Siofra laughed, a real hearty, full laugh. 'For a minute there I paniced and thought my uncle was your grandson!I thought it was strange he had the same name as the Prince!' 

Nerdanel giggled too, at how her Atar could tell the truth and yet a complete lie at the same time. 

'Well Curvo was the epessë my grandson used, not his true name' was all Mahtan gave away in his reply. 

'I see' Siofra nodded. 'Did you know my Atar, the brother of Curvo who was a hunter?' Valar, her voice sounded so desperate, and Nerdanel resisted the urge to spill everything there and then. 

Mahtan too looked slightly sorrowful when he replied ' I know there was one brother who followed Oromë, however he was often gone to the woods. Curvo I knew better, and saw much more often. 

'Oh' the young nís did nothing to hide her disappointment. Nerdanel felt such pity for her, she truly understood what is was to feel abandoned, alone. However unlike Nerdanel, this girl had no names, no explanations, no reasons to match to her Atar and Ammë and why they were not here. 

She desperately wished to cheer her granddaughter up, and so, she ushered Siofra over to her again. 'You may as well finish our branch of the family tree, only two names left!' 

_Though there should be two others added..._

Siofra's expression did indeed change as she remembered all she had achieved that afternoon. Mahtan looked on curiously as his great-granddaughter made her way to her seat beside Nerdanel, Fëanorian determination in her gait. 

'T-E-LU-FINWË AND PI-T-YA-FINWË...' Her reading becoming more certain and fluent with each Finwë-ending name she mentioned. 

'Very good Siofra! I must say for someone who never rea -... 

'PITYO and TELVO! THE **AMBARUSSA!'** she exclaimed like a child on her begetting day. 

Nerdanel and Mahtan were taken aback. Siofra knew the twins? Well they did train with Tyelko for a while. And they visited the woods at least once every year. Nerdanel remembered those days well, the whole of Tirion would have peace from outrageous pranks for a few glorious weeks! 

'You knew them?' Mahtan questioned, sincerely hoping he would not have to come up with an explanation for an 'Uncle Pityo' and 'Uncle Telvo' too. 

'How could I not know them! The entire woods was complete havoc and chaos when they visited. The elders would be fit to kill them by the time they left, but those of us who were only children would count down the days until they returned. I was only a little girl, and they would rope me into pranks of all sorts, but on my Atar in particular! ' 

_They knew..._ Nerdanel spoke to Mahtan in osanwë. 

_Of course they knew,_ replied Mahtan, _there was nothing one could keep from those rascals for long!_

'It's funny, I was their _favourite,_ much to the annoyance of my fellow elflings. They would come with little gifts for me every time, little carved wooden animals, or sometimes sweets. They'd always say 'Don't tell your Atar, but make sure you tell all of your friends to make them jealous!' Once they even gave me a beautiful bracelet with an eight pointed star." 

_THEY DID WHAT!?_ Nerdanel had to restrain herself from half laughing, half shouting in horror as a mystery which had gone on for over four hundred years had finally been solved. 

That bracelet was a begetting day gift to her from Fëanáro. It had vanished from a very secure safe in the forge on the eve before she was to receive it, and Fëanáro threatened the Helcaraxë to each of his sons, presuming one of them had taken it to woo some maiden. Of course all, especially the twins, had claimed to be innocent. Fëanáro was in a mood for a good month or so. Nerdanel was too, as the ordeal had ruined her special day. 

She saw Mahtan struggle to restrain his laughter from the corner of her eye. She threw him a discreet warning. 

_Well, at least it was a very worthy maiden who got the jewellery in the end._

'What did your Atar have to say to all this? ' Nerdanel questioned, curious as to whether Tyelko knew the twins were onto his secret. 

'I am not sure to tell you the truth.' She frowned. 'Now that I think about it, he always seemed distant to me whenever the Ambarussa were about. He would go hunting with the Princes, including Tyelkormo, during the day. At night he would busy himself doing odd jobs. The elders would always tell me to leave him be whenever I would ask for him, I guess he was busy both accommodating for and keeping the two troublesome princes from going too far with their humour. I was busy too those nights, blindly completing whatever mischief the Ambarussa put me up to, bribed by their favour and gifts!' 

_So Tyelko was trying to hide the truth from them... and the Ambarussa were better at keeping their relation to Siofra secret than he._

'They are missed much in our woods, especially by my generation. They are almost as missed as Tyelkormo. They were truly special, having the ability to make a whole forest echo in laughter.' Siofra concluded sadly. 

'They had the gift of laughter and now, when us heartbroken need it most, they are gone. I am sure that, had things been different, the Ambarussa would be competing with the hunters, alongside you in the Games.' Nerdanel replied, eyes distant. 

Siofra jumped in surprise 'The Games! The opening ceremony! Ai Eru I am late!' 

Sure enough, the light of Anar had almost disappeared, and the ceremony was set to begin at sunset. 

'Ai we lost track of time! You'll never make it on foot! Leave your weapons here, you can come back tomorrow, an excuse for another reading lesson!' Nerdanel offered quickly. 

'Aye! Take my mare, just drop her in the stables two streets from the square, tell them Mahtan sent you, I will look after the price.' Mahtan added. 

'Thank you both very much, for everything' Siofra answered, racing out the front door and leaping onto Mahtan's loyal steed, who grazed in the garden. 'I will have your money tommorow Mahtan!'. 

'In Tirion, we do not charge fam-'...Nerdanel shoved him firmly in the ribs...- _‘ friends'_

Luckily Siofra, in her haste, did not seem to notice his slip of tongue. As she raced away, she called back; 'Do not worry about the stables, I will tell Tambë here to make her way back home as soon as I reach the square!' 

With that, she was gone, in a blur of silvery blonde curls, leaving Nerdanel and Mahtan speechless. 

_'Did she just?'_

_'Yes'_

_'You didn't tell her the horse's name?_

_'No'_

_'She resembles Tyelko so much it scares me...'_

_'What scares me is the inner Miss Írissë we have yet to see...'_

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

The opening ceremony had already begun by the time Kyelaeron reached backstage, a little flushed after running a good league and a bit from Vayelya's workshop. Anya was going to kill him. He never was good at keeping time. 

Therefore, it was much to his surprise when he saw that Anya had yet to arrive. He smirked, he would make sure to give her a taste of her own medicine. 

He gazed around, everyone was here, ready to go except his osellë. He saw the warriors, from a distance, make their way to the stage. 

Kyelaeron felt butterflies in his stomach. There was so many people out there, at least... actually he was unsure of the number. 

'... over ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND in the audience along with the KING, QUEEN, DOWAGER AND PRINCESSES and YOU Oromë have the nerve to tell me YOUR FOLLOWERS are not ready! I do not care if this nís can dance as well as your dear sister or sing as well as Makalaurë! If she has not arrived by the time the warriors leave the stage...' 

A pretty nís with curly chestnut hair and warm hazel eyes scolded Oromë as though he were a child, not a mighty Vala. She threw him a death glare, which seemed too deadly for her lovely, freckled face. 

'Calm down Tanwë! She will be here soon enough... it will not kill the crowd if they have to wai- 

_'Calm down!? CALM DOWN!?_ Do you know whose fault it will be if your hunters do not have their asses out on that stage immediately after the end of this number? Hmmm...? Not little Miss Late, not you Oromë... It will be ME who gets blamed!' 

'There is no need to make such a fuss, it... 

'It is the FIRST GAMES SINCE THE FLIGHT! OF COURSE IT IS A BIG FUSS! I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN A MONTH! DO YOU REALISE THE AMOUNT OF ACCOUNTS AND CALCULATING I HAVE HAD TO DO TO MAKE THIS EVENT FEASIBLE, TO ENSURE EVERYTHING GOES OFF SMOOTHLY? AND THIS TIME, I DO NOT HAVE THE PRINCE TO HELP ME! I WILL NOT HAVE MY PLANNING SABOTAGED BY ONE NÍS SIMPLY BECAUSE SHE CANNOT READ THE SKY!' 

With that, Tanwë spun on her heel and stormed away. 

Kyelaeron watched, in shock at how much sass and temper this seemingly harmless young nís possessed. Oromë raked a hand through his hair, in all his years, Kyelaeron had never seen him knocked off his pedestal in such a manner, by an Elda no less. 

The Lord of the Hunt turned pleadingly to Lady Vána, who simply raised her hands and said 'Do not look at me, I warned you to have everyone assemble an hour early.' 

Oromë's mood was worsened by this and he mumbled something about how Vána sent Siofra to a smith as far away as possible. 

Kyelaeron shook his head. Anya will not like to have missed the drama. Then again, if she was here there would not have been any. His thoughts strayed to the fiery nís, he was unsure if he admired her boldness or scorned her lack of courtesy. _Tanwë...why does that name sound familiar._

A voice sounded behind him 'My Eru, I knew she had a temper but _that_...' 

'You obviously do not remember her in the challenge that won her the Games. _That_ was nothing in comparasion.' 

Kyelaeron turned to face Tyeliër and Mára, 'That nís is an Aráto champion?' This girl seemed full of surprises. 

'She is indeed. Champion of the last Games before the darkening.' replied Tyeliër. 'A warrior of course. Though not the strongest, she was the smartest. She won using strategy, meticulously calculated, playing to her strengths. They say she analysed each and every competitor, summed up their strengths, weaknesses, common moves, and weapons of choice.' 

'Her signature move was exerting only the bare minimum amount of energy needed to defeat her opponent until she reached the final, by which time the other competitors were worn out, and she was able to explode her full potential- and anger- on the field and, lets just say, the hunters that year were obliterated.' 

'There was much controversy over her win' added Mára. 'I remember the hunters complaining for weeks when I was a child, eventually Tyelkormo had to vouch for Tanwë and her fellow champion, simply so she could celebrate in peace!' 

'Why was it controversial?' Kyelaeron asked, vaguely recalling a book he had read which had accounts of all the Aráto Games and Champions. 

'Some claimed that her husband, who was not a competitor, helped her with her strategy, and that this was unfair. To be honest, it was a load of nonsense really, invented most likely by sore loser hunters and wagers. And even if it was true she would not have been breaking the rules.' Tyeliër explained. 

'And I think it is quite clear that she is perfectly capable of creating a strategy on her own, if what she said was true about her essentially organising the whole Games.' Mára chipped in. 

'Indeed' Kyelaeron agreed. 

The warriors had been on stage for a good few minutes now. Where was Anya? _It is not like her to be late...mostly._

As if on cue, a blur of silvery blonde skidded to a halt in front of him. Kyelaeron blinked, Aranya had arrived and was currently keeled over, panting. He was not the only one who lost track of time a fair distance away, it seemed 

'Well it is about time Siofra! You have no idea the drama you've missed.' Mára exclaimed. 

'You mean the drama she has _caused._ Why is it that whenever some sort of trouble happens, it is always you Siofra, even when you are not physically present!' Tyeliër teased. He received a whack at the back of his head from both níssi. 'OWW!' 

'I will be able to talk to the air before _you, Anya_ are capable of being on time.' Kyelaeron relished being able to use his osellë's own words against her. 

He received a glare that would probably scare off even Tanwë. 

However, before Siofra had a chance to explain herself, Tanwë reappeared, announcing that it was showtime. She half ushered , half shoved each of them out into the crowd. 

Oromë spotted Siofra and appeared relieved. On hindsight, he realised he ought to have hoped Siofra did not make it on time, if only to keep her away from the eyes of the royals a little longer, a sentiment which had Vána smirking softly and hence on the receiving end of another 'hmmmph' and scowl. 

_Where were you osellë?_ Kyelaeron asked in osanwë, _It is not like you to arrive anywhere after me._

_You would not believe the afternoon I have had, and what I have learned, otorno! was the reply he received._

Kyelaeron smirked, nerves instantly eased now Aranya was by his side. _That makes two of us Anya!_

They followed the line which slowly grew smaller and smaller, until the two found themselves face to face with Tanwë. Kyelaeron braced himself for a none-too-gentle shove. However, something strange happened when the ill-tempered nís locked eyes with Siofra. 

'Tyelko..?' all signs of annoyance fell from Tanwë's face, replaced with shock. Her eyes grew wide. Siofra's head sharply turned to face the nís, her expression mimicking that of Tanwë's. 

'Excuse me?' Siofra asked, voice slightly shaky. Kyelaeron had no idea what was going on. 

As soon as Tanwë's surprise came, it left. She shook her head. 'Forgive me, just a flashback.' She proceeded to push the two of them together, twice as hard onto the stage. 

The little incident was soon forgotten by Kyelaeron as the two found themselves in front of thousands of people, centre stage, ready to perform. 

However, Siofra felt unease deep in the pit of her stomach, and it was not because of the crowd. 

It was because she had just been mistaken for _Tyelkormo._

Too many hints had been thrown at her today, she could not stop the ideas that spread like the shipburning in her head. 

_Atar and I were very alike..._

_Atar had a brother called Curvo..._

_The Ambarussa treated me as their own._

_Atar laughed when I asked who Tyelkormo was..._

_Atar could talk to animals...so could Tyelkormo..._

_They do not talk about Atar in the woods...they do not talk about him to me..._

_They only ever speak of Tyelkormo with great pain...they try to avoid the subject as much as possible..._

Siofra shook her head. It could not be possible. No way. If she was Tyelkormo's daughter, she would be a princess. She was not a princess. Nerdanel would have known...she... 

Did Nerdanel know? She had opened up about her family an awful lot to Siofra. One did not simply do that for a stranger. 

_This is nonsense! I am simply seeing things I want to see! No way a Noldo princess would be kept a secret!_

_It is mere wishful thinking! I am so naive! The first motherly person I meet outside the woods and I immediately begin to conspire that we are blood relatives! Enough of this madness!_

Siofra pushed her _ridiculous_ theories aside as the music began, Kyelaeron sweeping her off her feet in an intricate lift. 

SsSSssSSsSssSssSSSSssSS 

Anairë's scowl deepened after the warriors left the stage. 

Their performance had been decent, however mediocre at best. Not one of them had mastered music the way _her_ Findekáno had. 

Now, as those reckless, disgraceful hunters began their performance, her disapproval and dissatisfaction increased tenfold. 

Her eyes were directed to the center of the stage, where that bold nís from the parade was stood, accompanied by _...by Valar... was that ..no!?_

Her gaze fell on the ner who stood behind the bold one...one name came to mind.. 

Turukános dearest friend...the respectable Lord she had wanted Írissë to wed... 

...This ner was _identical_ to him. 

It was not him however, for the Lord had left, he followed her husband and son, across the ice. 

The resemblance was too great to be a mere coincidence. 

The flute confirmed her suspicions. 

The music-loving Lord she once knew had not been so respectable after all...here was his lovechild son. 

_And to think that such a decent, well mannered ner would leave his son with those savages!_

Her eyes flicked to the nís once more. She could not help the anger that rose within her because, speaking of resemblance, this girl looked _exactly_ like that arrogant, rude, ignorant son of Fëanáro who took _her_ daughter, her little girl and changed her beyond redemption. 

Anairë closed her eyes briefly. She must not show emotion. _Ladies and Princesses and Royalty do not show emotion._ Curse Turcafinwé Tyelkormo for all he had taken from her! 

Was this nís his? The result of one of the many scandalous affairs he had in his youth? Did he even know? Or did he know and hide the child in his precious woods? Perhaps humility had finally gotten the better of him. Perhaps it was something to do with his idiotic ideologies about 'freedom', which in reality spelled 'royalty, running around wherever they like, abandoning duties and disgracing their honour.' 

Anairë had no doubt that this girl was indeed Tyelkormo's daughter. Just like her dance partner the resemblance to her father was too great to be coincidental and she had already proven herself pigheaded enough by the way she had winked last night. 

_She is the child of Tyelkormo and some whore, nothing else. I need not think about her any more._

Anairë pushed away a secret she had held deep down which, after years, threatened to re-emerge. _No, it is not possible...how DARE I even think such a thing possible!_

The secret in question was one which had been the final straw in her attempt to reconnect with Írissë. One she had not uttered to another soul, though every value and rule she held dear required her to. The secret had destroyed Anairë's opinion of her daughter at the time, had destroyed it until Anairë realised how much she missed her girl, when it was too late. 

However, despite how sickened and horrified Anairë felt when she learned the truth, she could not bring herself to divulge the secret, an act which would have ruined her daughter. She would _never_ stoop that low, no matter how many stupid protocols or laws she broke. She did not even tell Nolo. On second thoughts, Nolo would be the last person she'd have told, if she wished to avoid a premature kinslaying. 

Anairë had learned _the secret_ , the _true_ relationship Írissë and Tyelkormo had, shortly after the Games the pair had won. She saw them in the gardens as she walked, out for a breath of fresh air. They had chosen a good hiding place, she gave them credit for that, but they obviously did not know the secluded path was one she tread almost everyday. 

Her hands shook with rage as she saw her daughter propped against a tree, his hands under her skirts, hers raking through his hair. She moaned with pleasure and threw her head back in satisfaction as he caressed her neck, her breasts, returning to her lips for a passionate kiss she _gladly_ returned. 

Then his lips strayed lower... 

What stayed Anairë's voice that day she did not know, but before she knew it, she had left the clearing in a run, neither of the forbidden lovebirds noticing. 

She could not breathe, she simply turned numb in disbelief. She was not herself for a good month after the incident. Suddenly, she realised how insignificant her troubles were yesterday. Now she would give anything for a wild, troublesome, unladylike daughter, as long as she did not make love to her own _cousin._

_Half cousin_ was the only light Anairë could make from this situation. 

Anairë could not stand to look at Írissë afterwards. Írissë naturally thought this to be out of annoyance for her partaking (and winning) of the Games. Their relationship took one of many turns for the worse. 

She could not bring herself to spill the truth either. She hated to admit it, but she herself was unsure if this was entirely for Írissë's sake. Was it also for her own? _... perhaps both..._

However, now in glaring at this huntress in front of her, she could not help but fear something that was possible, even if she did not wish for it to be so. 

Especially with the evidence she recalled. 

_Írissë refused to drink at Kanafinwë's wedding. A month later, her and Tyelkormo left to go hunting...for over a year._

_When she returned, she sang lullabies in her sleep..._

_I once heard her give Elenwë advice on how to discipline both the child and the father._

_As soon as the skies grew dark she was gone, faster than Moringotto fleeing across the ice, desperately needing to reach the woods, an almost insane look of worry in her eyes..._

_...A mother's worry..._

One final piece of evidence came to her as she looked again at the huntress who happily danced center stage. Yesterday, at the parade, Anairë's head had snapped in the direction of the few giggling hunters as if she had spotted her family in the corner of her eye. Why? It was not the playful, but disrespectful banter, it was not the silvery Míriel curls, it was not even the outrageous wink. It was the _laugh,_ such a beautiful, melodic, yet full and hearty laugh. 

_She has Írissë's laugh..._

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

Vayelya absentmindedly applauded the warriors as their opening performance ended. If she were honest, and not at all biased, standards of musical ability and dance had fallen terribly since her hanno had left the warriors. 

_Well perhaps I am a little biased...and there's the fact that my Kyelaeron is with the hunters..._

She had not planned on attending tonight, but no more than ten minutes after her nephew had left, she found herself hitching a lift on the jaunting cart of a supplier. 

She watched as the hunters made their way onto the stage, her chest swelled with pride as a familiar tall handsome ner took centre stage, a beautifully wild nís at his side. _That must be Aranya..._

The melody began and by Eru, she was overwhelmed. He outshone everyone. He twirled his dance parter in the air so quick, yet so elegantly. Watching made her feel dizzy, yet she dared not look away. 

The music was far more lively than the warriors too. No sooner had the dance ended when Kyelaeron was already on his new flute, the crowd gasping collectively at his brilliance and mastery of the instrument. 

_Hanno would be so proud._

She had tears in her eyes. 

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

Work done for the day, Tanwë allowed herself to _breathe_ for a brief moment. 

From the edge of the stage she stood, arms crossed, leg up, forming a triangle with the wall. Hidden from the crowd she had a unique view of the performance. 

Memories of the last Games, _her_ Games flooded her mind. She could not say she missed dancing to such a crowd, in fact, she recalled having more nerves about the damn dance than she had for the actual trials. 

When standing still ,as she was now, there was nothing to keep her thoughts from straying. Guilt for her earlier rage- to a Vala nonetheless- began to creep up. She shoved it away, as she had shoved the current crowd of performers into their current place. She should not feel guilty for losing her cool. Her anger was her strength, the only thing that kept her going through her daily heartbreak. Her work kept her mind from straying to _him._ Thus keeping her temper at bay...mostly. 

Forced to stand idle until the end of the blasted flute rendition performed by Tirion's next heartthrob, she decided to be productive with her time. She planned her night. She was an expert at planning after all. 

_I will go home, review tommorows plan, finish the alterations for tommorows dress, Change the number of hunters accounted for by two, how the blast a Vala could miscount his own followers Aaahghh! If I have time I might run through my swordplay exercises. I am sure there is still a dummy somewhere I haven't hacked to bits..._

She yawned. She was not exaggerating when she said she had not slept in a month. She did not like dreams, they took her back in time to a place she could not return to, to a person who was never coming back. 

_What a bastard he was to leave! The one time in is life his over-logical mindset was crucial, somehow he allowed himself to be ruled completely by emotions._

_Then again I was always more logical, even in anger I could control it, hence I did not get kicked out of the warriors like him, the idiot... His logic could in split seconds be completely thrown out the window by his emotions..._

_His emotional side and his logical side were fifty-fifty in the end. Able to flip from one to the other in seconds. A coin toss..._

_...And I lost the toss..._

_Our tempers were equally dreadful..._

_I wish there was more work for me to do... I hate this thinking. I do not want to think..._

Since her husband left, Tanwë's life had been a mixture of hard work, meticulous plans, excessive crafts, rage, fury, temper and aggressive sword fights with dummies she would pretend were him. 

She fucking hated him for it. 

How could he have done it to her?He knew the odds. Sooner or later he was going to die...and she would never see him again. 

Tanwë sighed and shook her head as the song finally ended. She sneaked off the stage discreetly, ensuring she ran into no one she knew, she did not trust herself to not roar in the face of anyone who dare so much as blink at her. 

It was just one of _those nights._

She briskly walked and arrived at her little house a few minutes later. 

She absently fiddled with the chain around her neck, on which still hung her wedding ring, in spite of everything. 

_I **do not** love him anymore, it is just that it would be a shame to throw away a ring crafted by the greatest smith that ever lived...so great that his jewels are worth eternal damnation...My husband means nothing to me now...I hate him. **I DO NOT LOVE HIM!** _

She had allowed herself to think too long. She lost the plot, one of many times since the flight. 

**'CURSE YOU MORIFINWË CARNISTIR TO THE FUCKING VOID! GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE! HOW DARE YOU FORFEIT EVERYTHING WE HAD! HOW DARE YOU CHOOSE YOUR FAMILY JEWELS OVER ME! LEAVE ME LIKE THIS, ALONE FOR ETERNITY!. I HATE YOU HATE YOU HATE YOU! I WISH WE NEVER FUCKING MET! I DO NOT LOVE YOU I...**

She screamed and raged until the walls shook, until it felt as though she would never speak again. She smashed ornaments, kicked doors, punched the floor and wished he could hear her, see the insanity he had caused in her. She wished her words could inflict as much pain to him as he had to her. 

Finally, defeated, she slumped against the wall, hugging one of the detailed tapestries they had worked on together. 

_...I still love..._ **'NO! I DO NOT LOVE YOU ANYMORE!'**

She repeated these words over and over, until she half believed them. 

sSssSSSSsSSsssSSsSsSs 

Translations: 

Tambë : Copper 

Tanwë : Craft woman 

SsSssSssSsSSsSssssSsSssSssS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ideas for the plot of this story expand each chapter. So here we have another OC!. Tanwë the bad tempered. Moryo's wife. Similar to him and yet different (hence she is in Valinor, not Endor) I picture them as one of those couples who are fiercly screaming at each other one minute, fiercly making love the next. 
> 
> Also I know Tanwë's anger is a little psychotic at the moment, while she naturally is short tempered, her grief has caused her to act in such a way. There were times in another life where her lovely face had a lovely smile and she worked to live, not to forget. 
> 
> And, as you may have noticed, I am following the storyline that Maglor, Caranthir and Curufin all had wives. 
> 
> 'Tirions next Hearttrob'... Indeed Kyelaeron, indeed - Keep dancing! 
> 
> Siofra's likeness to a certain Turcafinwë Tyelkormo is beginning to be noticed. There were a few close calls there for her figuring the puzzle out. Thank Eru for Mahtan's wise way with words! However, I think the main reason the penny has not yet dropped for Siofra is because she does not believe herself capable of being a princess. Compared to Kyelaeron, who knew and had evidence he was technically a Lord, we can see why her lineage might be a little harder to work out. 
> 
> Kinda cringing for Anaire coming across Tyelko and Írissë rolling in the mud...well at least she didn't tell anyone. 
> 
> Pityo is in PAIN AAAGGGHHHAA (Literally half the wordcount for his piece is just 'AAAGGHH TORN AHHGGHHH HURTS) Eru is very depressing in his judgement...'I am gonna bring this poor boy back to arda...TO DIE !' 
> 
> Also a little psychotic just watching him in excrutiating pain, almost amused in a way huh Eru? 
> 
> I am LOVING the Ambarussa as uncles. Like make them be real. Let them be my uncles. I wanna hug them and do pranks. 
> 
> Tyelko just there with the Ambarussa pretending the little girl who calls him Atar, looks exactly like him and has the star tatooed on her neck has NOTHING to do with him. 'Oh look a child I do not know, why is she calling me Atar? That's crazy! *nervous laugh* HAHA *low whisper* Siofra I am _not_ your Atar when the Ambarussa are here remember!' 
> 
> Siofra just blowing Nerdanel and Mahtans minds one anecdote at a time. 
> 
> Siofra: 'Why is there a 'Finwë ' at the end of everyones name? Fëanor: Well Siofrafinwë, as the _true_ heirs to the Noldor throne it is vital, for protection against the spawn of the usurper Queen...' Nerdanel and sons : *face-palming* 'Here we go...' 
> 
> Reading lessons are still super cute. 
> 
> Siofra 'Why are there so many royals?' Fëanor 'Well in our youth Nerdanel was a seductive little temptress ...' Nerdanel *Whacks him* 
> 
> Anyway hope ye all are enjoying it, I will try to have the next chapter up within two to three weeks but I will not promise anything! 
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	10. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerdanel returns to the palace after many years and an unlikely friendship is formed, during Fëanáro bitching/praising/missing sessions. Siofra will not stop calling Kyelaeron 'My Lord', much to his annoyance. More reading/ criticing House of Finwë family names. In the years of the trees, Curvo sneaks into a party, the very party which is held many years later, before the first trial. Finally, we meet a nís we do not know half enough about....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone. Welcome back! I got this written a bit faster than I thought (well who needs to do a good college assignment anyway when you can write about the sexy House of Finwë!) Enjoy.
> 
> Please be warned there is a brief description of a violent, abusive relationship in this chapter. Apologies to anyone who may find this difficult to read about for whatever reason. It is not essential to the plot so if you have to skip it do not worry.

SsSSssSssSsSsSSsSSSSsSsS 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

Nerdanel sipped her teacup in a ladylike manner she had not found the need to practice in years. One of many etiquettes which had been drilled into her the moment her courtship to the Crown Prince was made official. 

Finally, after much prodding and perseverance on Arafinwë and Eärwen's part, she had agreed to pay a visit to her in laws. She had not so much as uttered a word to most of them since the flight. The grief, guilt and shame had been too much to handle. 

Nerdanel had always got on well and civil with most of the royals, ironically better than Fëanáro (not that besting him would be difficult in such a feat). She was almost an older sister figure to Nolo, Lalwen and Ara, all being significantly younger than she. 

Findis however, was always more distant, and tended to confide in Fëanáro more than her law-sister. Nerdanel was glad Fëanáro showed basic respect to at least one of his 'half-siblings'. Yet she never quite understood what had made Findis stand out from the other three. Surely her existence went against Fëanáro's beliefs on second marriages as much as his other siblings did? 

Whatever the reason was that Fëanáro held Findis' trust, the reason Nerdanel never had the chance to get too close with her eldest law-sister, Nerdanel cursed it this moment. 

Because the awkward silence which had stretched between the two níssi had gone on too long for comfort. 

On arriving at the Noldo Palace, Nerdanel had been informed that the Noldoran and his Queen were delayed, no doubt due to arrangements and engagements related to the Games. Nerdanel was not bothered, if she were brutally honest she did not come here to see Ara and Eärwen. The only reason she accepted the invitation was because she needed to talk to a certain 'Lady' about a certain huntress. 

And that Lady was not Findis. 

Nerdanel had asked for the Lady she sought, but the only response she received was 'She is not available to receive visitors at the moment.' 

The handmaid may as well have told her to _'Get lost, she will never speak to you, not after all your House has done!'_ The message was clear. 

And thus she was left with Findis in the dowager's sitting room. 

She may as well have been talking to a wall. Every time Nerdanel brought up some light hearted topic she presumed may interest the nís with golden vanyar hair, she received a polite, one word reply and nothing more. 

Nerdanel felt impatience rise in her. How could this princess not even try to make this visit a little less uncomfortable than it already was? She felt like she was but four hundred years old again, being introduced to Indis and Finwë, Fëanáro by her side, glaring at the former, herself hoping Maitimo would not kick her too hard as she desperately attempted to cover her slight bump. 

She did not remember that meeting being as embarrassing as this, despite the tension caused by her fiancée and the fact that mid meeting she had to rush outside the room to throw up... 

_How innocent my fears and grievances were back then, what I would give for my greatest worry and challenge to be meeting my in laws..._

Findis was still silent next time Nerdanel raised her eyes from her cup, meeting her gaze with her usual passive look. 

One thing about Findis Nerdanel did admire was that she did not seem to blame Nerdanel for anything done by her husband and sons. Her eyes held none of the bitterness and misplaced hate so commonly concealed in even the most friendly of elves. 

She could not help but wonder however, how Fëanáro did not lose his cool with his eldest half-sibling. Even Nerdanel, patient and wise as she was, felt the urge to storm out of the room the next time one of her conversation attempts was shot down by a quick, close ended, response. 

She knew Fëanáro well enough to know that, if this indeed was the way Findis _always_ behaved, that there was no way he would be so close to her. Such behaviour would drive him up the wall, or worse, he would take it as an insult. 

There must be another side to Findis she had never had the chance to see _...or perhaps I never looked close enough..._

Nerdanel shrugged the sentiment away. As intriguing as the relationship between Fëanáro and Findis had been, ultimately it was not what she was here for. More pressing matters were at hand. 

She needed to speak to Anairë, as much as she dreaded the reaction to the news she would bring. 

It was a risk, true, trusting Anaire with such sensitive information, but Nerdanel believed the Lady would keep it secret, if not for her daughter's honour, for her own. 

Also, perhaps Anairë, like her, could do with a new family member to attach themselves to, one free of the darkness and bloodshed which tainted each and every doomed ner and nís both níssi had called family. 

Nerdanel also knew the political implications around Siofra being recognised as royal. If the truth was revealed, there would be uproar. As if the relationship between two royal cousins was not scandalous enough already, there was also the fact that both of her granddaughter's parents were kinslayers, as much as it pained her to admit. 

She almost flinched at the thought of the abuse Siofra would receive, through no fault of her own. It broke her heart _...Obviously this was one of the many reasons Tyelkormo and Írissë left her in the woods, why Oromë never uttered a word about her existence..._

The world could not know the truth, but Siofra needed to... _and_ Anairë. 

Because, in addition to the fact that Nerdanel believed it the right thing to, it just so happened that Anairë was the most powerful member of the Noldo counsel. 

After the flight, no one had been left of the previous counsel, all loyal followers of either Nolofinwë or Fëanáro. The political system was in shambles. 

New members had been selected, all neri, the remaining next of kin to the Lords who had been in power in the Years of the Trees. 

However, for some houses, including her own, there was only female members left. Thus the position was offered to these ladies. All refused. _Except_ one. 

Nerdanel wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the Palace as possible. So it seemed did the other ladies, she recalled dear Tanwë, last remaining from the House of the Swallow, visiting her once every few years, buried in work like herself, as a distraction. Then there was the young nís from the House of the Fountain, who too found her own work to keep her mind off things. The daughter from the House of the Tree lived up to her sigil and disappeared into the woods, to live off the land. A sister to the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath kept the furnaces burning in the family smithy, the business surviving when Fëanáro's couldn't. 

However, to put all these níssi to shame, Anairë, of all people, had accepted the position which was rightfully hers. 

Why? Perhaps it was work, a distraction, not so different from the other ladies. Perhaps it was Anairë's way of making the new, dark world a little brighter. 

Or most likely, it was because Noldo tradition stated it was the _proper_ thing to do, and it gave her fresh faces to _glare_ at. 

Nevertheless, whatever reasons, Anairë soon had the Lords all under her control. Not that she wanted power that desperately, nor did she rehearse heart-stirring speeches, singing phrases of kingdom and glory. 

It was because they were _scared_ of her. 

In fact, she did not contribute much to the counsel at all. She simply sat there and glared. She listened to ambitious proposals, long formed plans, well organised events for the city. If she disagreed with anything said all she needed do was glare extra harshly and utter one word of disagreement, the Lords would then be running round in circles attempting to please her or fix a plan to her liking. 

Such occurances were amusingly observed in the letters Nerdanel received from Arafinwë, describing to her life in the Palace, telling her how they all fared, an indirect way of asking her the same. 

And now, when she needed a friend on the counsel more than ever, such words were music to her ears. 

If any rumour of Siofra reached the counsel (she had no doubt rumours would spread, the similarities between Tyelkormo and Siofra were too similar) any connections made between the father and daughter would need to be swiftly shot down as utter nonsense. It was common knowledge Anairë had little love for the sons of Fëanáro. If she so much as half defended Siofra against such an accusation no doubt others would dismiss the rumour too. 

In the worst case, should somehow the whole truth make its way to the ears of the counsel, Anairë would need to defend her daughter _and_ Tyelkormo, state how insulted she was someone could accuse _her_ daughter of such scandal, how, despite her grudge against him, Turcafinwë was a Noldo _Prince_ and how _dare_ they insult her late law-father's grandson in such a manner 

In other words, Anairë needed to play the part she excelled at playing. 

If such tactics, followed by much glaring were used, Nerdanel was positive the nobles would not be long shutting their mouths, dismissing the rumours their followers voiced to them, making the secrets dissappear as quick as they came. She had seen this many times, Fëanáro and Maitimo had the ability to scare a rumour (be it true or not) out of existence. 

But there was one problem. 

Anairë _hated_ Nerdanel. Well, hated all she represented and had loved. There was no way she would so much as hear her out for a brief few minutes. The fact she was currently sat with Findis and not 'Lady Lemon' herself was proof enough. 

_Perhaps I should not tell her...is it a risk? What if she confirms rather than denies the truth, just to spite me..?_

_No... she wouldn't...I know she did not like me, my love and our sons...but she did love her own children...and I can see the grief that lingers for them...even for Írissë, especially for Írissë..._

_Whether to tell her or not is not the problem at hand...I need to meet her...but how?_

Upon realising she had been drifting in daydreams a little too long, she kicked herself awake. Findis! _Ai Valar surely she thinks I am ignoring her now...!_

Suddenly, the answer to her dilemma appeared in front of her, in the shape of Indis' firstborn. 

Of course! Findis could make contact with Anairë, potentially arrange a meeting, even if she had to fool Nolofinwë's wife into doing so. 

Anairë would never decline an invitation from a nís who was respectable, her law sister and of royal blood. It was simply improper and uncourteous. 

Solutions and ideas flying across her mind, Nerdanel almost jumped out of her skin when Findis uncharacteristically broke the silence. 

'Speak your mind Nerdanel, I have seen that look too many times in the eyes of your husband. You have a problem, and are full to the brim with ideas with how to solve it, all of which involve a favour from _me._ ' She gave a pointed look. 

Nerdanel had to restrain herself from gaping like a fool, defying the etiquette she had practised all afternoon. 

Instead she replied resolutely 'Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I need you to arrange a meeting with Anairë. There is much the two of us need to discuss.' 

Findis raised an eyebrow. 'Is that all? Surely you do not need me to simply lead the two of you two a room? You both know the Palace walls and have the rights to be here. You both have more less equal ranks. Is there truly need for a middle person?' 

'She will not meet me, we all know she never was overly fond of Fëanáro's side of the family. Now, after all that has happened...' Nerdanel felt the need to sharply inhale and close her eyes for a brief moment, before continuing, 'She will not like what I have to say, perhaps she will not even believe it at first. I need her to listen to me, and I know she will not do so on her own accord.' 

Findis blank expression suddenly seemed intrigued, more open than before, 'Surely if she so badly does not wish to talk it is best to just leave it be. Give it time, perhaps someday she will come round.' 

Nerdanel had the feeling this was not the first time Findis had given said advice. Two quarrelling 'half' brothers came to mind. 

She shook her head 'This cannot wait.' 

Findis stared at her for a brief moment, narrowing her eyes. It felt slightly uneasy. 

However the moment passed as the secretive Princess nodded her head. 'Very well Nésa. I will help you.' 

Nerdanel could not prevent the gentle smile that broke out on her face. Never before had Findis called her 'Nésa'. Then again never before had she had such a long conversation with her law-sister. 

'Thank you... _Nésa._ ' was her reply. 

'Do not thank me yet.' Findis suddenly seemed much bolder and... _stronger?_...than Nerdanel had ever thought the simple nís capable of. She was taken aback, as she saw the same stubbornness in her law-sister's eyes as Fëanáro had in his. 

Nerdanel's observations were validated as the Princess told her the price of her help. 

'You will first tell me what is so important that you so vitally need to speak to Anairë. Do not lie. Not even Fëanáro was able to successfully hide the truth from me for long...' 

sSsSsSsSssSSSsSsSSsSsSsSssSsSsS 

'No way! So the nís in the music shop was your _Aunt?_ You really are a _Lord!?_ ' 

To say Siofra was as excited as Kyelaeron was to discover he had a relative on these shores was an understatement. 

'Yes and yes' Kyelaeron could not help the beam which broke out on his face. 'But as I said, I doubt you could really call me a Lord, my house has all but disappeared.' 

Siofra did not seem to heed his last comment. She mockingly exclaimed 'If what Nerdanel told me is correct, I must curtsey and give you my hand to kiss each time I see you. Also from now on you will be Lord Kyelaeron.' 

She proceeded enact the most crooked curtsey ever performed, almost falling over in the process, greeting her otorno with the words 'My Good Lord, What an honour to serve you! From now on I shall be your obedient servant until the end of..-' 

'Anya will you stop that! That is the _third_ time in the last ten minutes! I am not a real Lord! Not anymore! There is just my Aunt and I left and the two of us are far from upper class now!' 

'All that is gold does not glitter...'Siofra dramatically replied. 

Kyelaeron rolled his eyes. He would never be let live his birthright down now that Anya knew. 

Suddenly, recalling what his osellë had just said, his eyes widened. 'Wait you said _Nerdanel_ told you this? _Nerdanel_...as in..? 

'As in the wife of Fëanáro and Ammë of Tyelkormo and previously the highest ranking Noldo Lady, after the Queen Indis.' 

Kyelaeron quirked an eyebrow, 'Since when did you know the Noldo royalty back to front? Not two days ago I found myself smacking my head against my steed on hearing you say Nolofinwë crafted the Silmarils!' 

Aranya crossed her arms and threw him a look, forgetting all the formalities she had sworn to perform to her 'Lord' otorno mere minutes ago. 'You will find _Kyelaeron_ , that I have learned much in the last day, memorising the names of the royalty being the least of them!' 

'What else did you learn? And how in the name of Oromë did you end up talking to Lady Nerdanel?'It would be a lie to say Kyelaeron was not intrigued by Siofra's vague references to the renowned sculptress. 

'The smithy Vána sent me to was Prince Fëanáro's old one. Have you head of Mahtan Aulendur? He is the father of Nerdanel, taught Fëanáro all he knew. He fixed my weapons. While he was at work, Nerdanel invited me into her house and made me tea. You should have seen the house Kyelaeron! It was _wonderful._ There was so many strange and different things! I saw lots of little statues, and the chairs were huge! I could lie on one! And in the corner was so many books! I swear there was more than what Oromë has! 

'That wouldn't be hard.' Kyelaeron stated. Rumour had it that after the flight the ill-tempered Vala had raided his own library, destroying books about anything other than hunting. _Especially_ anything to do with a certain Noldo Prince whose actions had shocked him to the core...' 

'Anyway, I took a book and pretended to read, but I was just looking at the pictures. Nerdanel noticed, and somehow figured what hindered me was the same as what had hindered _Tyelkormo_ no less- apparently he struggled to read too! To make a long story short she taught me how to read, using the same system she had used for her third son. I sounded out the names of the royals...well half of them more like, for I had to rush away before I could finish, hence why I was late!' 

Kyelaeron was taken aback. He had spent many days and weeks attempting to teach Aranya how to read, since they were half the height they were now. Never was he successful. How had Nerdanel managed to teach her so much in one brief afternoon? 

'That is wonderful to hear Anya! But I would be lying if I said I wasn't surprised. How did Nerdanel do in so short a time what I couldn't do in over four centuries! They say that nís could work miracles, even proud Fëanáro would heed her word and listen her advice. I think they were right.' 

'Indeed Kye. She definitely lived up to her reputation of wise, from the impression she gave me.' 

'Wise..' Kyelaeron smirked '...except for her taste in _husbands!'_

_'Kyelaeron!'_ Anya scolded, but returned his smirk nonetheless. 'Now must I remind you that as a _Lord_ that was most uncourteous!.' 

'Ai Valar here we go again!' Kyelaeron rolled his eyes to the heavens. 

sSSSSsSsSSSSsSsSSs 

_'Do not lie. Not even Fëanáro was able to successfully hide the truth from me for long...'_

Nerdanel hesitated. Should she really divulge such a deep secret? And by Valar, where did this side of Findis come from? It was a different nís. 

_This_ was the Findis Fëanáro trusted so well. 

But should _Nerdanel_ trust her? With the secret that was her grandchild? 

Findis read her mind. 

'Come now Nerdanel, have I not proven over the years that I _can_ keep a secret? Valar, I bet there are secrets I keep you believed no one but you and your husband knew, secrets which caused problems which left my eldest brother turning to _me_ for counsel and resolution. Problems _I_ solved in the background. There was a reason Fëanáro favoured me over our other siblings.' 

It was Nerdanel's turn to be intrigued. 'What secrets?...What problems?' 

Findis smiled gently, humbled as she began to recount all she had done for her half brother over the years. 

'There was a time in our youth when Fëanáro would be sick with nerves each time he left the Palace to return to his apprenticeship with your father. I was not long figuring out there was a nís in the picture, and _I_ gave him the kick in the _arse_ he needed to summon the courage to simply _talk_ to you.' 

'You rejected Fëanáro three times before you accepted his courtship. It was I who told him that he needed to let go of his pride, to not speak of your unique beauty and talent in craft, but of how you made him _feel._ ' 

'Fëanáro sent a letter telling of your travels around Valinor. As always, he did not think of the consequences of his actions. For the Crown Prince to be travelling with a young nís _unchaperoned_...well lets just say it would not have been taken well in court. I noticed the letter unread on Atar's desk and curiosity got the better of me - luckily for you two! I may have _transcribed_ the letter to a neater font, and changed your name to the name of one of Fëanáro's fellow smiths, or more importantly, a _ner._

'Of course you know about Maitimo, and your hastily prepared wedding. But it was I who searched Aman for the _best_ midwife, for Fëanáro was scared out of his wits that you would suffer Míriel's fate. He did not wish to trouble you in your condition with his fears.' 

'Tyelkormo arrived far too early for comfort, in the hours after his birth it looked as though he would not make it. I made sure the rest of our siblings and Atar did not know of nor interfere with what was believed to be the precious final hours of the babe's life, the last thing Fëanáro would want is to be seen vulnerable in his despair and grief.' 

'That is why Fëanáro named him 'Strong Finwë' not for his physical strength, as so many presume, but for the strength of his fëa, for managing to pull through such an obstacle, when he was _so young._

'It was I who convinced Atar _and_ the counsel that yourself and Fëanáro were more than capable raising your children, without nursemaids and nannies and servants, when the both of you moved away from the city. He would not have permitted you leave you know. 

'I hate to tell you this but Fëanáro, his mind stuck in the forge _forgot_ about your one thousandth begetting day. The huge 'surprise' party thrown was the end product of my hasty planning, which seems to keep reoccurring in your life's milestones. 

'When you were away visiting your Atar, your sons surprised you on return with a brand new, refurbished workshop. Little do you know it was because, not one day after you had left, your previous workshop had been _burned_ to the ground. I took command of both Fëanáro and the boys, and they all worked as though their lives depended on it. Who of your family was the culprit remains to be seen, my money is on Curufinwë' 

'And of course, each time one of your sons caused trouble, something much more common than not, it was me who would drag them by their ears to Fëanáro to explain themselves, that is, if what they had been plotting would have political impacts. The Ambarussa made a habit dragging each others ears whenever they saw me coming, if only for a little more comfort.' 

'When he pulled the sword on Nolo... that was a tough time. Sometimes I think 'if only people knew what I knew, they would not be so quick to judge.' I know the two of you were going through a rough patch, I do not mean to pry nor judge, I know such things are private, but he voiced his emotions to me, the only other person he would accept counsel from. As hard as he tried to ignore Melko's lies, they struck a chord within him, the part of him who was still a boy, longing for his mother, despising her replacement. He took his anger out on Nolo, as if by reasserting his position he would protect Míriel's legacy from a betrayal that would never happen, ever. No one speaks of this, but that day I stood between the two, Nolofinwë and Fëanáro. On seeing my face, my horror, he put the sword _down._

'And after the darkening, after... _Atar_...after everything that conspired, it was I who planned the route across the sea, researched the ways of mastering the Ulmo's domain, while he was too busy preparing speeches and organising rebellion and swearing oaths.' 

'Sometimes I wish I was there at Alqualondë. When the problem of the Teleri refusing him the ships arose, perhaps I could have found the answer for him, a better one than the horrifying solution he came up with.' 

As Findis concluded her tales, closing her eyes in pain for a moment, Nerdanel found herself staring at this nís in shock. 

She had known _so much_ , had done _so much,_ and not a soul knew but Fëanáro. 

Naerdanel was certain she had know more than what she had just revealed also. 

From the most endearing secrets of her and Fëanáro's courtship days, to the dark ones of the dark days, this nís had not told a soul, keeping her head down, not asking for any reward. She deserved so much more credit than what most gave her. She deserved to be noticed more, appreciated more. Nerdanel found herself scolding her earlier frustrations about the nís's quiet character. Sometimes what one needed was a quiet person, _to listen, to think deeply..._

_That is what Fëanáro found in Findis._

_People say I was the only one who Fëanáro took counsel from, who Fëanáro trusted with his feelings, who Fëanáro listened to...they are wrong._

Nerdanel raised her eyes to meet her law-sister's. No word were spoken by the two, but soon Nerdanel found herself pulling Findis into an embrace, becoming the older sister now the older brother was gone. 

It was in that moment Nerdanel knew she could trust this nís with the secret that was Siofra Aranya. 

Finally, after a while the two sisters broke apart. Findis discreetly wiped a tear from her cheek. 

'I should not miss him, he does not deserve to be missed, but _I do_ ' she spoke softly. 

Nerdanel could not prevent her eyes from watering as she whispered, 'As do I' 

sSSSsSsSSssSSssSsSss 

_Oromë's Woods, Y.T..._

Elenā stared down at the bright pair of innocent little eyes looking up at her and could not bring herself to say no. 

She swore she would never dance again, not until she could dance with her Meldo, if that ever would happen. 

_It will..._

But she supposed she could make an exception for her little onya, her whole world. 

He wanted to learn. She could tell he did not mean simply standing on her toes as she twirled him around, no. She knew that look. She used to have that look. He was determined and in awe and willing to work. 

She supposed it would be a fun way to pass time in the woods. 

'Very well onya. We will begin with lesson number one. _Posture._ Now I want you to put your shoulders back-..' She laughed at his exaggerated movement...'-No not _that_ far back...There! You must keep your back straight in that position for the whole dance. 

'But Ammë it _hurts!_ ' His little brow crinkled and he tried to put on a brave face, but failed miserably. 

She smiled knowingly. 'That happens to everyone at first.' 

'Even Atar?' The distant fascination for a ner he should know as well as her broke her heart. 

_'Especially Atar.'_ She replied. 'You need to build up strength in your _core._ ' She pointed to his abdomen. 'And your arms.' 

'I thought we only use legs for dancing.' 

'If only it were that simple onya. Copy me. We are going to do an exercise that will make you strong. Lie down, now hold yourself up on your elbows...yes that's it...but _no_ you have to keep your back _down._ ' 

'OWW!' Was the reply she received after about ten seconds. She had to hold down a giggle. The Plank had never been her husband's strength either. 

'Just breathe and stay calm. Close your eyes. See if you can last at least one minute.' She closed her eyes, in an attempt to get him to follow, to become calm, simply breathe, for that mind to stop thinking for a few brief seconds. 

'Ammë?' It seemed wishful thinking to hope he would stay quiet. 

'Mmmm?' 

'Can we do the fun parts of dance instead. Like the lift and spinny things?' 

'You will not be able to lift until your core is strong onya.' 

He sighed, 'Okay Ammë.' 

He _finally_ fell silent. 

After the minute was up, Elenā opened her eyes. 'Well done! for a beginner that was..-' 

He wasn't there. 

_That little rascal! He is just like..._

One person came to mind. Although he was his Atar in looks, there was certain mischief he always got up to which screamed _Vayelya._

His Atar would have known better than to run away from a plank, even though she was far better at it than he, graciously accepting defeat and facing her boasting rather than her wrath. 

His Aunt would have no such qualms. She had pulled this trick on Elenā many times. 

And now she had no idea where her dear Kyelaeron had ran off to. 

She shook her head, attempting to erase all the irrational fears which always seemed to weave their way into her mind ever since the day...the horrifying day that led to her going to the woods. 

_The woods are dangerous..._

_He will be fine, he is a clever boy..._

_There are dangerous beasts..._

_I will not be long finding him..._

Indeed she soon had found his trail. She crept up behind him. On seeing her coming he ran off, laughing. Dance lessons had become a game of catch. 

She laughed too. She could never bring herself to be angry at him for long, though she made sure not to spoil him and was always stern where his safety was involved. 

The two dashed through a clearing, where many trees interlinked together, almost like a secret little haven. 

That is when Elenā saw they were not alone. 

She gasped as she made out the faces of two _very_ familiar elves. 

But what really shocked her was what they were doing, or what they had been doing before they jumped apart and stared at the mother and son, both as stunned and stupefied and fearful as she. 

A silence stretched for a while, before it was broken by no other than Kyelaeron. 

'What were _they_ doing Ammë? 

It was one of those times she wished he could just have kept his little mouth shut. 

'Prince Turcafinwë, Princess Írissë' she bowed her head. She honestly did not know what else to say or do. Neither did they it seemed. 

'Ammë what were they doing?' 

She did not know if they recognised her. She had fame for a time Tirion yes, but she did not recall these two ever being in the audience. 

What scared her to the core was the recognition in their eyes as they looked at her son. 

_They know his Atar, of course they do he is a Lord! Rumours tell me he was against them in the Games._

They know... 

'AMMË WHAT WERE THEY DOING?' Kyelaeron would be ignored no more. 

She looked deep into the royals eyes, giving them both a silent message as she answered. 'Kissing onya, they were kissing.' 

The look she gave was clear. She would keep their secret if they could keep hers... 

She saw comprehension dawn on their expressions, and relief, though both looked curious, as if- 

'Ammë you never kiss me like _that!_ ' He scrunched his nose, in envy or disgust she did not know. 

From the corner of her eye she saw the Prince smirk and the Princess cover her giggles with her hand. 

The three adults could barely contain their laughter, the tense atmosphere seemed to float away with the child's innocent question. 

'No onya, the only person I can kiss _that_ way is your Atar. 

'Oh' 

'Run along onya, I see some nice mushrooms over there we could have for dinner, remember what I told you about the good and bad ones.' 

'Yes Ammë' Her son enthusiastically skipped off. 

Turning to face the royals _....Two people with power... from Tirion... Ai Meldo!...her mind exploded with possibilities._

Should she explain her drastic dilemma to the Prince and Princess before her? Could they do something to help her, even something as small as leaving a message to her husband, telling him the truth? 

As much as it pained her, she couldn't. 

_I do not know who in Tirion is against me...is it just my law-father or are there others?..._

_My law-father is a Lord...his followers...can I trust them?..._

_The hills have eyes ..._

_If Meldo did find out the truth how would he react? Would he be in danger then too...?_

_...If his Atar was willing to end his son's happiness for honour how long until he is willing to end his son's life?_

_Ai Valar he is probably in bits! As am I. But unlike me he has no explanation to make his suffering worthwhile, no little ray of hope to remind him of me..._

_I hope Vayelya is there for him. I know she will be._

_If I got word to him and he came to live in the woods...no I can't do that, people would come for us...we would be hunted..._

_If I went back to Tirion and he knew the truth...No I would not be able to sleep at night, especially if Kyelaeron was with me. Who's to stop them smothering us in our sleep?_

_If I told him the truth and ordered him to do nothing, leave us be, leave his Atar be, despite his crimes...No, he would not be able to leave it be. Not with all that has transpired. The alleyway, his unborn child almost murdered...the heartbreak he has suffered...It would be more painful knowing he had a son he could not meet...he would not be able to let it go...I cannot say I blame him..._

Resolving that her secret must remain just that, she faced the royals. 

Tyelkormo had been watching at her son, no doubt seeing the tell-tale heirloom chain which hung from his neck 'Does his Atar know?' He questioned, nodding to Kyelaeron. 

She sadly shook her head 'No'. 

Almost in rage Tyelkormo cried out 'WHY!', taking a step forward. Írissë restrained him. 

Elenā winced. _'Why?'_ was a long story. Instead she settled for 'Forbidden love is something we have in common, your secret is safe with me.' 

Tyelkormo and Írissë's eyes widened. 'You mean...you didn't leave...?'Tyelkormo began. 

'Not by choice.' she answered bitterly. 'The world we live in is fucked up.' 

'Indeed' Írissë replied with just as much vigour. 'But is there not a way you could tell him at least. We could get a message through if you wish.' 

Mournfully she shook her head. 'It is too dangerous. The reason I am here is because my son's life, and mine were almost ended when I was _pregnant._ My life was spared because I was with child, but I was warned of what would happen dare I return. If my husband finds out that truth, I fear what he may do, and what lengths some may go to to stop him' 

'I shudder to think what might happen if I returned. And should he leave the city for here we will be found.' 

She saw both clench their fists in anger. 

'But that is _illegal._ Such a death threat, to a mother and a child is one of the worst crimes with one of the worst punishments! Could you not go on trial?' Írissë passionately rehearsed the Noldo laws she had drilled into her in her early days of education. 

'I have thought of that too. It would not work. I have no evidence, no witnesses, just my own word. When taken against that of a Lord no less it will mean nothing. Even if the two of you spoke for me it would mean nothing. I am but a lower-class Avarin nís, married in secret ceremony, Vayelya and Laurëfindal being the only witness's, both too close to us for their word to be believed. Most likely they will think I am a whore, trying to swindle a Lord from his riches for my bastard child. My son could get taken away, I could lose custody, I cannot do that. I must keep him secret, even from his family...it is the only way to keep him safe.' 

Tyelkormo gazed deep in her eyes, emanating _sympathy?...no...empathy..._

_He knows exactly how I feel..._

'We _understand_ , truly' Írissë sounded sincerely. 

A question Elenā _needed_ to ask came to mind. 

'I heard you fought against my husband in the Final of your Games...How...how does he fare?' 

Tyelkormo smirked. 'He knocked me on my arse and made a holy show of me, in front of all Tirion no less!' 

'And _I_ had to save his arse, as always. We won by the skin of our teeth. Both he and Laurë gave us a real fight' Írissë added. 

Elenā laughed. Their anecdotes gave her hope. 

'In all seriousness, if one looks close enough, there is a sadness and grief in his eyes that never seems to vanish. But my brother tells me he has come a long way, has healed much and whenever he feels down he has many friends by his side for support. Do not worry for him.' Írissë assured her. 

'I would worry for yourselves.' Tyelkormo replied. ' I am sure you know the land well, but surely you get lonely out here? If you are in need of a community, people to talk to, a home if you will, feel free to join us Hunter's. They can keep a secret. Your son is not the only child of forbidden love in these woods.' 

'Nessa offered me as much, but for now I am content with just my son and I. But _thank you,_ perhaps in the future.' 

'Happy to help.' Tyelkormo nodded. 

'Take care.' Írissë added. 

'Thank you both, your words mean a great deal to me.' 

With that, the Prince and Princess left. 

Elenā turned and together she and her son walked back to their little camp. 

She tried to stamp away the urge to flee to her lover as fast as the wind, throw herself into his arms, not care about anything or anyone. 

It was an awful sentiment. How could she even think of leaving her son? She should not think it. But she did. She just wanted to make sure he was alright. She fought the urge for now. She had to think of her son, protect him. 

Once they reached where they had began, Elenā turned to Kyelaeron. 'Now onya, I want you to go into plank for _two_ minutes this time. That is what you get for cheating! And this time I will be _watching!'_

His reaction was as though she had asked him to fight a balrog. 

She told him two minutes were up after only one minute. She was far too soft with him... 

sSsssSsSSsSsSssSsSSSsSssSssSsSs 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

'Are you certain? Are you one hundred percent sure this is not a mere coincidence? Dare I say a hallucination?' Findis asked for the one hundredth time, as she paced the floor. 

It seemed the nís had finally learnt a secret shocking enough to leave her stunned. 

'The evidence is all there. But to see her alone would be enough to confirm she is Tyelkormo's child.' Nerdanel's answers were all similar. 

Findis halted, staring deep into Nerdanel's eyes. 'But are you sure _Írissë_ is the mother? There is not as much evidence on that field. It is crucial that we are certain of this. If her mother is any nís _other_ than Tyelkormo's _cousin_ this would not be a problem at all, we would be able to welcome her into the family with open arms. True, she may not be adored as a result of his crimes, but most of the Noldor are in no position to judge, so many relatives participated in Alqualondë.' 

'If Írissë was not the mother, Tyelkormo would have had no reason to keep her a secret from us. What is more she has Írissë's silver bow. You know how dear that weapon was to her. Also there is a grace about her despite her wildness, something in her demeanour that, when one looks close enough resembles the ladylike qualities Írissë always had, no matter how many scandals she caused. I would swear by Eru that she is Írissë's daughter.' Nerdanel asserted. 

'And I hope to Eru you would know better than to ever swear _anything_ to Eru after all that has transpired.' Findis placed a hand on her forehead and sighed. 'I believe you. But this is not going to be an easy road.' 

'I am aware.' replied Nerdanel. 'That is another reason I must speak with Anairë. Her position on the counsel gives her authority to contain this secret, preventing whispers and accusations spreading like wildfire.' 

'Good thinking. You need to speak with her as soon as possible. I will arrange for the two of you to speak together in an hour or so. As far as I know Anairë has nothing on her agenda for the rest of today.' 

'Actually, since you now are aware of the secret I keep, would you accompany me to the meeting? I do not think Anairë would believe any word coming from my mouth.' 

'Very well.' agreed Findis. 'But why does she despise you so much? You never did anything personally to her. And you remained here, just like her. One would think you'd be friends, you have lots in common.' 

'And lots of things to distinguish us too. I guess she associates me with Fëanáro, and all the hate he held for Nolofinwë she wishes to reflect onto me.' Nerdanel sighed. 

'Fëanáro **_did not hate_ ** any of us'. 

A harsh, defensive reply was thrown back in the face of the sculptress. 

Again, Nerdanel was taken off guard by the sudden change in Findis' calm personality. 

'Excuse me?' Nerdanel began 'But I thought-...' 

'I do not presume to have known him better than you, you were his _wife,_ his _life._ But you are wrong in thinking he hated his half siblings, you have been fooled by Fëanáro's antics, just like everyone else.' 

Nerdanel did not speak, silently gesturing for Findis to continue. 

'Out of all my siblings, I was the only one who was old enough to notice the little things he did for us when we were younger, when he thought we weren't looking.' 

'In our childhood years, when the four of us all slept in the same nursery, an adolescent Fëanáro would tip toe in, in the small hours, before he himself rested, and kiss us each on the head, fixing fallen bedcovers and restoring plush toys, lost in the movement of dreams, back to our arms. He didn't know I saw him each time, I faked reverie, for I would always lay awake to see if he would come, and he _always_ did.' 

'He never forgot a begetting day, though he never gave presents, we would all receive a gift from an anonymous servant, gifts which were far too expensive for a servant to buy.' 

'He taught Nolo how to fight and talked him out of his cold feet on his wedding day, he found Lalwendë the time she ran away, after a harsh argument with Atar, taught Ara how to swim, would not let him near Alqualondë to see his Telerin princess before he had mastered the technique. 

'This and a million more things he did for us. He could not hate us if he tried. And he did try.' 

'But why?' Nerdanel could not help but ask 'Why the big act of quarreling with Nolo, of rude whispers and jests and feigned impatience towards Ara and Lalwen. I honestly believed he despised his siblings, save yourself perhaps, I'm loath to admit nothing he said or did to me supports your beliefs - not that I am implying you lie. 

Findis smiled sadly 'Because to admit openly he loved us would be admitting that something good came from the marriage of Finwë and Indis. It would be to admit that there was something positive to be taken from what Fëanáro saw as the biggest insult possible to late Míriel, and he could not bring himself to admit such a thing, be it because of pride or grief or need to defend his mother when she was not around to defend herself.' 

'It is funny, it is as if he thought that if he kept quiet, hid his affection, was discreet in the little things he did for us, then perhaps Míriel would not see it, perhaps it would not be woven onto the tapestries by no other than his mother, the nís he was trying to honour, albeit in the wrong way.' 

'My Eru' Nerdanel was left at a loss for words. She had learned more in the last day or two about the secrets of those she _thought_ she knew inside out, _thought_ she was closest too. 

She knew Fëanáro was a complex ner. She did not know the half of it. 

Turning to Findis, she could not help but ask, 'But why _you._ He had a soft spot for you, you escaped his taunts, he trusted you, it was obvious he held no grudge against you...I know you helped him many times, but I am sure the other three would have been more than willing to do the same, if only to win the slightest of their eldest sibling's favour.' 

Findis smiled sadly. 'Because he _helped me_ first. He saved me from something...I shudder to think what my life would have turned out to be had Fëanáro not intervened. I was in his debt.' 

'Do not be mistaken, he would have helped the other three the very same way as he helped me, had they landed themselves in the same dire situation as I in my youth. Thank Eru none of them did.' 

'I spoke of the little things he did when we were children, how he fooled everyone but me. That is not exactly true, for he had fooled me also, until a fateful day many years ago.' 

'I had come of age and as was custom back then, betrothed to a ner I barely knew. A match had been made and Atar and Ammë assured me my fiancée was honourable and would keep me in comfort for all my days, a _smart_ match. 

Then I finally met him, I was smitten. He was handsome and kind and too good to be true. We courted for a while. Eventually he was trusted to accompany me without a chaperone. 

That is when he changed. He tried to manipulate me, force me into things...I did not want to do...when I refused he attacked me...with words at first, then...in more obvious ways. 

'I hid the bruises, I would not dare show them to my parents nor tell them why I wished to end the courtship. But I begged them to end the engagement. I remember being on my knees, before the throne, pleading Atar and Ammë with tears streaming down my face. They, not knowing the truth, deemed me as ungrateful and of simply having cold feet. Fëanáro had been in the throne room then too, completing some duty with Atar, but he said nothing.' 

'I was sent to bed. As I stormed my way to my bedroom I slammed the door, only for it to be opened again. Fëanáro stood there, staring at me with those brilliant eyes, far too knowing.' 

'He dragged me into my washroom and demanded I wash my face, clean away the powder concealing my bruised eye. He said nothing. He then demanded I take off my conservative dress, one I selected to hide my skin. When I protested on decency terms he shouted, in true Fëanáro fashion, 'It won't kill me to see your shoulders damn it! Leave your underdress on!' 

'So I did, and exposed my swollen collarbone and bruised arms. I begged him to not tell Atar and Ammë, I was so ashamed...even though I shouldn't have been. He reluctantly agreed and before he left, pulled me into an awkward embrace.' 

'The next day, we received word that my suitor wished to sever our engagement and planned on giving up his titles and riches to enlist in maintaining the area around Lord Námo's Halls. Apparently his handsome looks had vanished overnight, he claimed he fell. His injuries numbered far more than mine, and in far more obvious places.' 

'Later that month Fëanáro passed an Act in the counsel stating that Noble ladies should have the choice of when and who they marry.' 

'I remember waiting until he returned that day to his bedchambers, and flinging myself into his arms. Neither of us said anything, but from that day on a strange, secretive bond was formed. We had each others backs.' 

'And I will still have his back even now' Findis resolved. 'I will not let politics destroy his granddaughter, as it had almost destroyed me, though in a different way, even if I have to drag Anairë by my teeth .' 

Nerdanel could not believe it, anger that someone could do such a thing to a young innocent nís, mixed with pride at her husband, her brilliant Meldo for how he gave the ner everything he deserved and _more._ For Findis, he ensured someone would never find themselves forced into such a marriage again. 

'I remember the Act, the week it was passed. Fëanáro was an apprentice, though we were not yet courting. Instead of doing everything in his power to avoid his counsel paperwork, he shut himself in his room for days, not emerging until he had his whole proposal receited and perfected, certain of success. He never said why he did it.' 

Nerdanel felt a stab in her chest as she recalled the days a gifted apprentice and an aspiring scupltress would gaze at the other when they presumed themselves unwatched, would spend days persuading themselves to talk to the other, embarrassed when they finally did. Both lost in the new realm of romance only associated with the youth. 

Findis had tears in her eyes as she relived her dark memories. Nerdanel found herself embracing her law sister again, and mourning the Fëanáro of Findis tales. 

sSsSsSSSSsssSsssSSSSS 

'So you sat and had tea with the nís who is the finest sculptor the world had seen, who is also the mother of the finest hunter ever seen and finest musician ever seen, wife of the finest smith ever seen and you called her _Lady Anairë._ Why Anya WHY?! 

_'My Lord,_ those of us who are of lower class such as my humble self do not have time to educate ourselves in such intricacies, we are too busy wiping your fancy behinds.' 

Kyelaeron raked his hand through his hair. He had brought up Nerdanel in conversation as a means of distracting Anya from calling him Lord. His plan had backfired. All roads led to 'Lord Kyelaeron' it seemed. 

Siofra giggled at his exasperated expression. 'And you got one thing wrong. _You_ are the finest musician ever seen.' 

This time Kyelaeron laughed out loud. 'No Anya, there is no way _anyone_ could be better than Kanafin-...' 

'Have you ever heard Kanafinwë Makalaurë play?' his osellë demanded. 

'Well _no_ but..' 

'So how do you know he is better than you are?' 

'I..because..everyone...because it is simply _known._ ' 

'Well I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt until the day I see you both perform together.' Siofra insisted. 

'Ha! As if that will ever happen!' Kyelaeron rolled his eyes. 

The two made their way to Nerdanel's home, to pick up Siofra's weapons. The first trial began tommorow, and the two hoped to get some light sparring in before the party to be held between the warrior and hunter camps tonight. 

Siofra was also hoping she'd be able to squeeze in the second reading lesson Nerdanel had spoke of yesterday. Kyelaeron tagged along, intrigued by the teaching method Siofra had described. 

They reached the house and met Mahtan and Tambë outside, a cart behind the horse loaded with items to be sold at the market. Siofra grabbed her weapons and tried to convince the old smith to accept her payment. He refused, stating that if she did well in the Games it would be payment enough. 

'If you _insist_ sir. But if I do not do well in the Games I _will_ be paying you!' 

Mahtan internally laughed as he recalled Tyelko avoiding paying with as much effort as his daughter was currently putting into forcing him to accept payment. 

'I doubt you will do anything but well. I am afraid Nerdanel is not in, she sends her apologies but she had a meeting in the Palace. She said you are more than welcome to go on inside and try a bit of reading yourself. I am sure Kyelaeron here can help too.' 

'That would be wonderful!' Siofra could not help the smile that broke out on her face. Mahtan nodded, then headed off to the market. The two made their way inside. 

Kyelaeron was at a loss for words. 

'Come on otorno, why are you so quiet?' Siofra tried to usher him into the sitting room, where the book which was the key to her reading lay. 

Kyelaeron's eyes remained distant.'You do realise _who_ lived here, who grew up here, both the heroes and villans of our history. It's so surreal to think...-' 

'Will you stop that brooding this instant and get in here!' Írissë's intolerance for melancholy and Tyelkormo's impatience echoed in their daughter's words. 

'Sorry Anya.' Kyelaeron, who, like any ner who knew Írissë well enough, knew better than to argue... 

'Hmmphh' 

The two sat down. Kyelaeron read the system Fëanáro had created, and was impressed and a little in awe. He was holding a book written by Fëanáro... this was where Makalaurë composed his songs, where Tyelkormo returned to each time he left the woods. Though he knew the tale ended tragically and the sons of Fëanáro could no longer be seen as 'role models', Kyelaeron found it impossible to simply not be a little starstruck. 

'FIN-DE-KÁ-NO, TU-RU-KÁ-NO, ÍR-IS-SË, AR-A-KÁNO.' 

Kyelaeron was very impressed. Siofra had gone from zero literacy to a decent standard _overnight._ Her expression was not one of triumph however, more of confusion. 

'What is it with the royals and putting the same thing at the end of everyone's name! First 'Finwë', now 'Káno', and why is ÍR-IS-SË, Oh! _Írissë_ the odd one out? 

Kyelaeron shrugged 'Káno... commander...? Why would you call a baby a commander? And when these neri were born, there was no need for commanders or war!' 

'Where is Nerdanel when we need her?!' Siofra exclaimed. 'She had loads of funny stories and explanations on the strange ways of the royalty and nobility, such as _yourself...!_

Kyelaeron ignored her jest, as a long forgotten memory made its way into his head. 

'Well if you want to know a story about the royals...I have one. ' 

'What is it otorno?' Curiosity emanated from Aranya's emerald eyes. 

'When I was a little boy living in the woods with Ammë, one day I wandered off and who did I run into but Tyelkormo and Írissë. 

'No!' Siofra seemed both surprised and slightly envious. 'You weren't even living with us in Oromë's camp then! And you saw Tyelkormo AND Írissë? I NEVER saw Tyelkormo! EVER! Never mind Írissë! All I had was stories, of the Games they won, and the ones Atar told me, which I think were all codswallop if I'm honest.' 

Kyelaeron smirked, not out of boasting, but out of excitement, the sort one gets when about to divulge a secret. Anya had already been stunned to hear that he had seen Tyelkormo and Írissë. She did not know the half of it yet. 

'That's not all...' he began...' I ran into them...while they were _kissing!'_

Siofra gasped and gaped, clapping her mouth...'NO WAY!' 

'Mmmhhhhm! Kyelaeron assured, 'They were a _couple._

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

Tirion Y.T... 

Curufinwë, camouflaged by his dark cloak crept through the clearing just on the outskirts of the city. 

A strong but makeshift fence, forged by no other than Aulë himself, separated him from the camps of both the warriors and the hunters. Guards were positioned at the entrance, civilians (and royalty) were not permitted in the camps. 

Lively music, shouts, singing and dancing drifted its way to his ears. It seemed quite the party in there. 

A party he was adamant he would get into. 

Sure there was celebrations in the city, but it was not quite fun on your own. Curufinwë did not bother with peers, he did not have time for idle chit chat and unproductive sport. He had an apprenticeship to do, and the smiths Atar's forge made much better company anyway. 

He _could_ perhaps find a pretty nís to charm, but in all honesty he was not in the mood. They would either agree with everything he said or swoon at the idea of being noticed by a Prince or in some cases make it very clear that they were not interested in a ner who was half their age...In other words he had spent so much time enticing níssi the past few days that tonight he needed a _break._

His brothers had all but disappeared. Little Ambarussa were gone to bed, Kano insisted he needed to practise for tommorow's performance, Nelyo was accompanied by Findékáno and Findaráto, so Curufinwë made sure to stay well away, and Moryo he had just glimpsed disappearing down an alleyway with the nís who did the Palace accounts, _no way_ was he following them. 

That left one option. 

_Tyelko._

_Who is currently behind this huge metal fence._

_Good thing I am a smith...almost..._

It was all too easy to figure out how to hoist three pillars from the ground. It was basic knowledge for a smith. He had slid through in no time, carefully placing the fencing back in place. 

The sight he beheld immediately proved to him that the risk of being caught had been worth it. 

There was music and dance and merriment. A huge banquet of the most exquisite and exotic foods lined the sides of the area. Elflings of competitors ran riot with little sparklers, from the distance he could see what appeared to be a firework show being set up by Olorin. A huge bonfire marked the centre of the event, where the two camps met. Warriors and Hunters mingled and chatted, so far there were no brawls, simply lively camaraderie and teasing. The exclusive scene before him was the image of _fun._

Atarinkë was impressed, and he was a _Prince_ no less, well used to fine events. 

Scanning his eyes through the crowd, he found who he was looking for. The other side of the bonfire, where silky blankets and velvet cushions were laid all around as seating, sat his favourite brother. 

He would never admit he had a favourite, but he could not deny that he always seemed to laugh more and... _care less_ about work whenever Tyelko was about. 

Tyelko was the only person with whom he could completely forget about the tasks he had yet to complete, or the next step in his journey for success, or what project he should set his mind to tommorow. He found it easy to relax around his outgoing brother. 

_Perhaps it is because, unlike Atar and I, Tyelko and I have nothing in common, when it comes to our interests anyway. To talk about smithying to Tyeko would be as effective as Kano's lullabies at putting him to sleep- but with boredom. The same could be said with me and Hunting..._

In dire need of such a break from the forge (he had been selling and crafting for months leading up to the Games) he made his way over to where Tyelko lay, Huan behind him, acting as a pillow. 

As he rounded the bonfire, he noticed there was something..no _...someone._..lying in turn on Tyelko's chest. 

He felt the urge to roll his eyes. He accepted the.. _.unique.._.relationship between Tyelko and Írissë (who was in fact the only cousin he could stand being in the presence of ) but really, the two ought to be a little more discreet. It was a miracle for their own sakes that he was the only one in Tirion who seemed to have noticed...How his brothers, _half_ cousins, even Ammë and Atar had not copped on he did not know. It was clear as the new gems Atar was working on. 

Deciding it was time to teach the lovebirds a lesson, Curufinwë crept behind where the couple sat. Huan noticed, of course he did, but did not alert the two. _Perhaps he agrees that these two have become far too lax..._

Imitating a typical surprised ner, in awe of royalty, Atarinkë boomed 'My Lord _Nolofinwë!_ What an _honour_ to meet you!' 

It was amusing how quickly the pair detached themselves from one another and turned to face him. 

What was _not_ amusing was the cushion thrown with such force towards his _head_ that it floored him. 

'Curvo that was _NOT FUNNY!'_ The thrower stated, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes betraying her mirth. 

Tyelko made no such effort to conceal his amusement, laughing out loud and helping Curvo to his feet. 'Well met hanno' he greeted Curvo, clapping him on the back 'You broke in sooner than I expected.' 

' _Obviously_ ' stated Curvo, eyes hopping between the Tyelko and Írissë, 'The two of you need to be more discreet, honestly!' 

Said two acted as if there was _nothing_ between them. 'What do you mean Curvo? We were just relaxing!' Tyelko answered. 

'Do not be ridiculous Curvo, what you're implying is absurd!' added Írissë. 

'Oh fine Tyelko, so next time I wish to _'relax',_ you will happily massage my arse for me like you were just doing for Íris- _OWW!'_

This time it was Tyelko who delivered the blow, to the back of his head. 

'Huan agrees with me, don't you boy?' Curvo voiced. 

'Woof' 

Tyelko glared at Huan and then faced his brother's smug look of triumph, stating unconvincingly that Huan said he _did not_ agree with Curvo. 

'Come, let us sit down.' Írissë changed the subject. 'We were talking about the other competitors, what warriors may prove challenging. Have you heard who are the favourites Curvo? We had planned on strolling in to Tirion for a while but we...ahh...' She glanced at Tyelko. 

'We got distracted practising our _wrestling skills._ ' Tyelko finished for her. Írissë rolled her eyes, as if to say 'Make it more obvious why don't you?' 

Curvo felt the urge to vomit but thought it best to pretend he never heard _why_ the pair had missed out on news that day. 

'For the warriors Laurëfindal seems to be topping the polls of the pundits. But fear not hanno, you are the favourite to win. Írissë, no offence but people are underestimating you, you are more-less unknown.' 

'Dont worry cousin, I have been underestimated my whole life' replied Írissë with a bitter grin. 

'Who else is up there in the polls?' questioned Tyelkormo. 

'Number two to win is Kandāra. Many like her chances, they reckon if she survived so long on the hither shores she must have learned a trick or two. Then Laurëfindal..'- Tyelko scowled...- 'then Ehtelë...'- Írissë scowled...'- then Rõka...'- Curvo scowled. 

Tyelkormo, although scowling himself, did not miss the opportunity to tease his little brother, 'Whats this, Curvo, _jealous_ of another smith? _Never! '_

'I am _not_ jealous of Rõka. One can only be jealous when they are _inferior_ to someone. Curvo was quick to throw back. 

'Ooh he _is_ jealous ' Írissë antagonised further. Curvo ignored her. 

'And what about _you_ Tyelko? It seems you yourself are _jealous_ of Laurëfindal! Why? It's not because he is a suitor to a certain someone is it?' 

Tyelko's scowl reappeared. 'Atar and Nolofinwë will _friends_ before Írissë willingly marries that stuck up-..' 

'I would not be so worried about Laurë, he has his eyes on Ehtelë's sister. I would worry about _Ehtelë,_ Ammë worships the ground he stands on.' Irissë cut in. 

'Don't be ridiculous' stated Curvo, 'Everyone knows Ehtelë is damaged goods'. 

'Ha? What do you mean?' Írissë questioned. 

'Do fill me in on the full story.' Tyelko raised an eyebrow. 

Curvo sighed and rolled his eyes. 'You two really _don't_ have time for gossip, do you?' He was met with blank, clueless stares. 'Seriously, do either of you have a notion of the ongoings of the _civilised_ world? OWW! Will you stop hitting me on the head Tyelko? Honestly, at this rate I'll end up as bright as you- _AHHHH OWW!'_

'You asked for that one' Írissë defended Tyelko's actions. 

'Do go on about Ehtelë though, I am intrigued.' Tyeko said all too cheerily, content to have served Curvo revenge for his insults. 

'Do you talk to your brother at all Írissë? I am sure he could tell you all about Ehtelë in far better detail than I.' Curvo was still not finished in pointing out how far under the rock the couple lived. 

'Turukáno and I are _very_ different. So excuse me if I don't have the patience to sit and chat with him about himself, his baby, his wife and all his little frien- _Ethelë! Laurë!_ fancy seeing you here!' 

Before Írissë had the chance to complete her sarcastic reply, who appeared before them but the two warriors that had occupied the latter part of their conversation. 

'My Lady Írissë' Laurëfindal bowed, Ehtelë copying him, 'My Lords'. 'Turcafinwë' Ehtelë added. 

Curvo spared a glance at Tyelko as he lowered his head in acknowledgement. His brother's expression towards Laurëfindal was of a cat staring at a dog in disgust. 

'Oh please, the two of you know me well enough to omit such meaningless titles! Must I always have to remind you both that Írissë will do?' 

'Yes _Írissë_ because Laurë here has the memory of the goldfish found in my family's fountains.' Ehtelë teased. 

Laurëfindal threw him a look 'I do recall it was _you_ who forgot your instrument for the opening ceremony and only realised _after_ we had gone on stage.' 

'True.' sighed Ehtelë in defeat. 'But there's no need to remind me of that, that nís backstage got so angry that I will make sure to carry two of everything forever more, if only to avoid the rage of seemingly innocent níssi.' 

Írissë laughed. 'That was Tanwë, our accountant, I am pretty sure she could scare Eru with her temper. You may be seeing more of her, she tells me she is thinking of joining the warriors.' 

Both warriors looked at each other with genuine dread, the thought of such a furious nís being given free reign of a sword seemed enough to put fear in the hearts of the two grown neri. 

'Don't worry, if she cannot control her temper she will be kicked out, just like our brother' Curvo added, feeling the need to compensate for Tyelkormo's silence, said ner was still glaring at Laurë with the same intensity his Atar glared at Indis. 

'Well in fairness he did not deserve to be kicked out.' Laurëfindal defended Morifinwë. 'The way that Maia was treating the female warriors was not right.' 

'True but he is a Prince and should know better than to think he can get away with being the reason a maia was sent to Irmo's care for the first time ever.' Curvo answered, throwing a long winded answer back in an attempt to cover more of Tyelko's silence. 

'It was a maia he knocked out?' Tyelko finally spoke, albeit to Curvo alone. 'I always presumed it was Angaráto.' 

'Tyelko even I knew it was a maia.' Írissë teased this time, but received no slap on the head, much to Curvo's annoyance. 

All he gave was a 'hmmphh' before adding 'Shame he's not competing now so.' 

Then he fell back to glaring at Laurëfindal. 

'So tell me _warriors_ ' Írissë turned back her two suitors. Who sent you this time to keep an eye on me? Findekáno? Atar? Turukáno?' 

The two looked sheepishly towards the ground. 'What makes you think- ' Ehtelë began but gave up on seeing Írissë's knowing look. 

'Lady Anairë' Ehtelë sighed in defeat. 

'Turukáno' Laurefindal mimicked his friend's expression. 

Írissë sighed in exasperation 'I swear I wouldn't be surprised if they asked you to sleep in my bed.' 

Tyelko choked on the mirúvorë he had been sipping, his fists giving away his true emotions as they clenched. 

The two well mannered neri were left speechless and slightly embarrassed at such a statement from no other than their Princess. 

'We would...never... _degrade_ your honour in such a way My Lady- sorry- _Írissë.'_ was Laurëfindal's careful reply. 

Curvo could not resist... 

'Do not worry Laurë, that ship had sailed, wrecked and sank to the bottom of the- _...OWWW!'_

This time two cushions flew straight between Curvo's ribs, leaving him winded. Both Tyelko and Írissë threw him looks which would probably have brought tears to the eyes of a humbler ner. Curvo did not care. His cunning jest had been worth it. 

'Ignore him.' Írissë harshly ordered the warriors 'He has had too many blows to the head tonight.' 

'I wonder who's fault that is' Curvo mumbled, rubbing his abdomen. 

Laurëfindal simply nodded, wishing to move the conversation away from such topics. However Ehtelë smirked, clearly understanding what Curufinwë implied, though he never would have guessed who had taken Írissë's 'honour' in such a manner. 

The conversation, steadily becoming a downhill slope to discomfort, was cut short as the piercing whistle and bang of the fireworks began. 

The Warriors and Hunters alike (and Curvo) stared up at the sky, the atmosphere one of excitement, anticipation and wonder. One Curufinwë swore he would never forget. 

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

After the fireworks display, Siofra found herself being twirled around the dancefloor by many neri she did not know- all warriors, enticed by her wildness, confidence and good looks. After many weeks of rehersing the same dance, she was glad the freedom of movement was restored to her. 

After Siofra had completed reading the royal family tree, herself and Kyelaeron had strolled back to their camp, and had practised lightly before the big day tommorow. Work done, it was time for play. Both otorno and osellë found themselves jumping with joy at the sight of the feast and festivities, the likes of which they had never seen. 

Siofra's mind drifted to her otorno, he would love being able to _show off,_ especially considering the warriors were their opponents. She had not seen him since the two had lain down on the grass to watch the sparks light up the sky, for as soon as the show ended the music started. Both Siofra and Kyelaeron immediately had been asked to dance. 

It was quite fun, flirting and teasing these neri. They all seemed strange to her, never fully speaking their mind, all so polite...too polite...so much so that she felt they would choose manners over laughter. 

She loved whispering unladylike lines in their ears, leaving them at a loss over what to say or do. 

She was about to stun her current dance partner, a tall and proud Vanya, when suddenly she found herself swiftly pulled from her partners arms into a pair of familiar ones, a brief apology being uttered to the Vanya in the process. 

'Kyelaeron is everything alright?' Siofra voiced to her otorno, whose eyes were looking around him, carefully leading the two of them in certain, calculated directions on the dance floor. 

'Mmmhhhm what...? Oh sorry, _yes_ Anya everything is _fine._ ' was the distant reply she received, Kyelaeron's eyes staying fixed on her for no longer than a few seconds. 

Siofra quirked an eyebrow, she knew that tone in her otorno. He was _scared._ But of what? 

Taking time to scan the area herself, Siofra found the answer. 

Leaning towards his ear, as she had done with the other partners, Siofra whispered 'You wouldn't happen to be _avoiding_ the group of warrior níssi over there, eyeing you as though you are the vision of their dreams, would you otorno?' 

'What makes you think-' Kyelaeron began began but gave up on seeing Aranya's knowing look. 

'Maybe' he sighed in defeat. 

Siofra could not help it, she laughed out loud. 'All the wild beasts we have hunted and you didn't even bat an eyelid, and now you tell me you are afraid...of a few _níssi? '_

'They are eyeing me the way a tiger eyes an antelope! I am the _prey_ Anya of course I am scared! I danced with some, they all were so _confusing!_ And the worst part was when some would whisper things in my ears and I wouldn't know what to say! They would say it so serious but it was always something ridiculous! And then I didn't know what to say! And...' 

'It's alright Kye, they are just trying to render you speechless for fun. Well, that's what I was doing anyway!' 

'No, I am pretty sure most of them were only after one thing...' Kyelaeron sulked. 

'Oh poor Kyelaeron!' Siofra had no sympathy for her otorno. 

Instead she decided to imitate his admirers. She placed the back of her hand against her forehead. 'You are just too handsome and beautiful with mystical eyes and sculpted muscles! You take my breath away with your breathtaking flute and magical dancing!' 

Siofra proceeded to fall _onto_ Kyelaeron, the latter being forced to catch her, as though she were swooning. 'If you do not bed me tonight, oh handsome musician, my life will mean nothing, I may as well walk into the Halls.' 

'Anya!' Kyelaeron tried to sound annoyed, but could not help the laughter that escaped from his lips. 'See that is the kind of madness that scares me about those ladies. I would not be surprised if one of them said such a thing, with full sincerity!' 

'You're just too good looking for your own good otorno!' Siofra giggled. 

'Not the worst problem to have I guess.' Kyelaeron smirked. 'There is about a half an hour left of music. Dance with me till the end?' 

Siofra tried to not smile at the desperation in his voice. Curtseying (rather badly) she replied 'It would be an honour _my Lord.'_

'You have the memory of a goldfish! How many times today have I told you that you are _not_ to call me by my title!?' 

'As you wish _my Lord'_ was the reply he received. 

Kyelaron rolled his eyes _...I hope someday this comes back to bite her!..._

Siofra smirked at his exasperated expression before adding 'I was getting bored of those dry neri anyway!' 

The two danced until the music had stopped, then lay outside their tents watching the stars. 

sSSSSsssSsSssssSssSs 

Translations:

Elenā -'Of the Stars'/ I chose this name Kyelaeron's mother because it reflects her Avarin heritage, who I believe loved the stars dearly. Also because she became a star, with her dancing (The Hollywood couple HC still stands!)...and I really like Vampire Diaries ok?There I admit it!

Onya- my child

Rõka- Rog

nésa- sister

Laurëfindal- Glorfindel

Ehtelë- Ectheliom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah that was long! Too many secrets just flew into my head and I had to get them all out in this chapter.
> 
> The Findis and Fëanáro 'friendhip/allies' thing I really love. The part of me who is a sucker for happy endings likes to think Fëanor did not hate his half siblings. The rational side of me links the attitude he has towards them to want of honour for his mother. I guess what I am trying to say is I see Fëanor as a fallen hero, deceived by lies and (OMG IT JUST OCCURED TO ME THE SIMILARITIES BETWEEN ANAKIN SKYWALKER AND FEANOR!) although he was arrogant and proud, if his half siblings needed him, he was willing to let his pride go to help them.
> 
> If anyone wants to know what sitting in a room with me is like; I am as silent as Findis and as annoyed as Nerdanel at the other person when awkward silence ensues.
> 
> Kyelaeron is not being let live down his 'Lordship'. But he needn't worry, revenge will be sweet when the truth and time comes, and he gets to go round bowing to 'Her Royal Highness!'
> 
> So we now know one of Kyelaeron's parents. (I bet no one has any clue as to who the father is, I didn't make it obvious at all- like way too obvious (but family ties and Easter eggs are fun)- yep like you are all gonna be shocked to your very core when I reveal Kyelaeron's dad-Not ( I am sorry, if you haven't figured it or have a general idea out then you obviously need Siofras magic reading book)
> 
> I really wanted to portray the fear Elenā was feeling, and to be fair her fears were well founded. It would have been extremely tricky for her to even attempt to let her husband know.
> 
> Also just could not resist the Tyelko and Írissë cameo in Kyelaeron's childhood.
> 
> Love Siofra getting pissed because Kyelaeron has seen Tyelko and Írissë and she 'has never seen them'. Írissë be face palming in Mandos right now. 
> 
> And the party!!! Same one centuries apart. Curufinwë, for all his craftiness, needs to learn that his big mouth is getting him turned into a real life punchbag and target for Tyelko and Írissë.
> 
> And yes, I stole a quote from 'The Witcher ', 'That ship had sailed, wrecked and sank to the bottom of the ocean.'
> 
> And Finally, a heartthrob aftraid of his admirers...Well at least Anya was there to laugh and protect him from the 'predators!'
> 
> See you all for the next chapter, where the Games will begin. Happy Christmas if I do not publish before then.
> 
> I love comments so write away. Thanks to allwho have left Kudos and Comments so far .
> 
> See y'all soon! 
> 
> SiofraMarinax


	11. Let the Games Begin!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes prepare for the first trial. The remaining daughter and law-daughters of Finwë fight/cry/make up. Little Siofra has an important question. Someone returns from the Halls...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Sorry for a bit of a wait, Christmas celebrations got in the way of writing! Now let the Games Begin...
> 
> *There is a small explicit scene of the romantic kind in this chapter. If you wish to skip it, go to 'End Notes' and I'll show you where to skip to.

_Tirion...First Age 505..._

This was it. The day they had been waiting for had arrived. Siofra shook away her nerves and used deep breaths to rid the nausea in her stomach _...It will be fine...it is only the first day...I am skilled enough to pass this test...it will be fine..._

Kyelaeron beside her had turned so pale that his skin could be mistaken for a summer tan. Siofra composed herself and focused her attention on ridding her otorno of his self doubts. 

'NEXT!' barked a voice they had become accustomed to the past few days. Kyelaeron stepped forward, it was his turn to be checked for forbidden weapons (such as poison darts) and performance enhancing medicines (something reborn nandor were notorious for) 

Kyelaeron was brushed down at his sides, his pockets were checked, as were his weapons, leathers and everything in-between, all while Tanwë simultaneously meticulously interrogated him with questions in search of tell-tale signs of prohibited substance use. 

Of course, Kyelaeron was clean, his weapons all permitted. Tanwë shoved him to the other side, ready to enter the Game's arena. Siofra stepped forward before Tanwë could yank her. 

Her weapons were all approved, then Tanwë began checking her leathers for hidden contraband, with the intensity of one scanning for a needle in a haystack. 

Siofra was not worried, she had nothing to hide. 

Therefore it was much to her dismay when Tanwë stopped dead in her search, rage emanating from her aura. So much so heads turned in the direction of the pair. Siofra was taken aback, shock and slight panic in her expression. 

'What is your name?' Tanwë sharply ordered. 

'Siofra' she replied with her usual confidence. 

'Full name?' 

'Siofra Aranya' 

Tanwë raised an eyebrow, indicating she had not been fooled by the failure to mention who was her father 

She did not press the paternity matter further however. 'Follow me!' She ordered, with as much gentleness as Fëanáro used when ordering Moringotto away from Formenos. 

Siofra obliged, ignoring the stares she received and holding her head up with as much arrogance as she had inherited. 

Kyelaeron made to follow, but a warning glare from Tanwë stayed his steps. 

Siofra was led through the marquee the competitors were currently in, located just beside the arena. The trial was set to begin in an hour. 

Tanwë ushered her into a small 'room' out of sight and earshot of any other person. It appeared to be an office of sorts. 

As Tanwë drew the curtains, giving the two privacy, Siofra pleaded her case. 

'I swear to you I did not take any sort of drugs and I have no prohibited weapons!' 

Tanwë took her time, ensuring not a soul could possibly guess the happenings of the room. 'I know' she replied eventually. 

'THEN WHY AM I HERE!? I DID NOTHING! PLEASE DON'T DISQUALIFY ME! AI VALAR THIS IS ABOUT THE TREE ISN'T IT?' Siofra could only maintain her temper for so long. 

'CALM DOWN! Tanwë snapped, before her face softened just a little. 'You will not be disqualified.' Her brow furrowed 'Wait what tree?' 

'Nothing' Siofra muttered quickly. 

Tanwë rolled her eyes. 'You are here because I need you to cover this.' She pointed to Siofra's neck, to the eight pointed star. 

Confusion dawned in Siofra's expression. 'My tattoo...but _why? '_

Tanwë sighed. 'Because this is the first time the Teleri have ventured within one hundred leagues of Tirion since the flight. King Olwë will be present, as will families of those lost at Alqualonde. For you to proudly brandish your marking is an insult to them, after all they have suffered. It could even have political impacts.' 

'For your own sake, if you openly wear your mark, there will be many who will dislike you, followers of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë who remain and also Telerin warriors, who you will be competing against. Your tattoo could trigger dark memories, they could lose their self control to grief. You would be surprised how much grief can transform a person. It can turn one insane, in the blink of an eye. I have witnessed it firsthand, many years ago.' 

Siofra was taken aback, and also a little confused. 'But...my Ammë followed Nolofinwë, and my Atar Fëanáro! They did not hate each other! Why should a follower of Nolofinwë hate me for my tattoo! I was too young to have followed either of them!' 

Tanwë narrowed her eyes... was it not obvious why there would be tension? 'You know what happened after the flight...the shipburning?' 

'Oh yes I remember now. Sorry.' Siofra replied. Tanwë wasn't sure if the girl was being sarcastic or not. 

'Whatever about Noldo politics, you must cover it for the Teleri. It is dangerous not to, on many fronts.' Tanwë warned. 

'Are they not being a little bitter? I know the Noldor stole their ships but they really ought to forgive and forget. I don't see why I should have to cover my tattoo.' Siofra stubbornly crossed her arms, as if she had indeed been raised in the palace. 

'YOU DID NOT JUST...- Tanwë began but had to compose herself when she saw that there was no ill intent in Siofra's words. 

She could not believe it. This girl was oblivious. _How can the kinslaying have completely escaped the knowledge of this nís?!_

Tanwë shuddered as she did each time the tragic events at Alqualondë entered her mind. Or, more specifically, when she recalled just who had taken part. Surely he did not have it in him? Surely he stood aside. 

History told her otherwise. 

Tanwë started again 'Did you not learn history as part of your education in the woods?' 

Siofra shrugged 'I was never good with letters, so Oromë brought me hunting while the others were schooled and taught me what I needed to know himself.' 

_In other words Oromë taught you hunting and nothing else...especially nothing that had anything to do with Tyelkormo... typical._

Tanwë shook her head. She understood the pain the Vala must have but to ignore the lessons history taught was almost as sinful as the kinslaying itself. There was no better way to ensure it never happened again than to educate elflings of the horrors of war. 

Tanwë took a deep breath, how did one explain Alqualondë to one who was clueless? Anger rose within her. Siofra should know this already! This was not Tanwë's job! 

And there was the fact that Tanwë, no more than Oromë, hated to even think about the horrors committed by someone she loved. 

She sighed 'Moina, you cannot so much as mention the flight or the stealing of the ships to any Teleri. They suffered more than any other Eldar race after the darkening. The horror caused by the Noldor at Swanhaven was so great that I have not the heart nor the time to explain it to you. Just know that innocent people died, for the sake of a few ships.' 

Siofra's eyes widened, genuine and heartfelt sadness flooded her face. Tanwë felt like crying at the mere sight of it. 'No...' she gasped, before shaking herself out of her trance 'I'm sorry...I didn't know...I...will...should I _remove_ it?' She nodded to her tattoo, albeit hesitantly. 

'No.' Tanwë shook her head. 'It is a link to who you are, you did not take part in any of the mess of Alqualondë, or the flight. Yes, you must hide it at a time like this, but do not be ashamed of it. Wear it with pride.' 

Tanwë proceeded to pull down the neckline of her dress, exposing her chest. Siofra gasped as just above Tanwë's heart, was a tattoo that perfectly matched her own. The eight pointed star. 

' _Hide_ it, but do not forget it.' Tanwë reiterated, before pulling her dress back up. 'Here, take this for today. I can have something made for you for the next trial.' 

She handed Siofra the thick headband she had been wearing. 

'I hope I get to the next trial.' Siofra felt the nerves kicking in yet again. 

'You will' Tanwë assured. _If you possess a fraction of the talent of he whom you are the spitting image of..._

'Thank you' Siofra said while securing the band onto her brow. 'Wow! My hair is completely out of my way now! This makes seeing so much easier!' 

'You really ought to tie it back for the competition. Take Laurëfindal's failure as a lesson.' Tanwë warned. 

'Who?' Siofra really knew nothing to do with history of any sort. 

'He was runner up in Tyelkormo and Írissë's Games. He insisted on leaving his long, golden hair free of any braids or ties and Tyelko had no qualms in taking full advantage of it.' Tanwë explained. 

'I see...' Siofra replied 'Wait you knew Tyelkormo? You called him by his epessë.' 

Tanwë cursed her slip of tongue, she did not wish to talk about any of her doomed in-laws ever again. 'I used to do the Palace accounts' was all she gave away. 'Now you better go. We have been here too long. Keep that headband on.' 

Siofra gave her thanks yet again and practically skipped off to the other competitors again, delighted with her new 'hairstyle' 

Tanwë hesitated, before shouting 'SIOFRA!' 

'Yes!' The young nís skidded to a halt, almost falling over in the process, so much so that Tanwë could not help the smile that broke out on her face. When had she last smiled? It scared her to remember when. 

'Good Luck.' Her smile widened. 

Siofra returned the beam. She nodded her head, before skipping off. 

Tanwë wryly raised an eyebrow. _With a face so much like your Atar’s you are going to need it..._

SsSsSSsSSsSSSsSssSsSssSSsSssSssSs 

_Oromë's Woods , Y.T..._

_'Hullo Mister Robin! Do you have any feathers we can use in our game please?! Mára needs them because the Ambarussa didn't give her anything so she needs something to put on her head so she can pretend to be Manwë!'_

The startled bird had to pause for a minute to comprehend what the babbling elfling requested of him. On realising it was but a few mere feathers, to play some game with her little peer, he gladly complied to the gleeful silvery haired child. 

_'Here you go princess.'_ he replied, plucking a few stray loose feathers from his breast. She stroked under his red breast in thanks. 

As he flew off she replied, a little feisty _'I am not a princess, I am a king see!'_ She held what appeared to be a sparkling bracelet and hastily secured it to her brow, acting as though it was the finest crown in all the land. 

_'Keep that bracelet away from the magpies!_ The red breast warned, taking his leave. 

Siofra turned to Mára. 'Here you go! Now put them in your hair and you will look like Manwë!' 

Her friend complied. The two giggled. They had heard of this game from the talk of the elders. Though, when they asked how to play it, all they received was laughs and shaking heads. 

That meant the game must be funny. 

'What do we do now?' Mára questioned. 'The elders said they would not tell us and that we'd find out when were older!' 

'I'm not waiting that long to play a game! ' The child of the Hasty Riser wrinkled her nose in disgust. She wished her Atto were here, he would know...or Ammë... Ammë knew everything. 

'How about you bow to me and say you're my obedient servant.' Mára suggested. 

'Obb-ee-ddien...what?' Siofra had never heard that word. 

'I don't know. I heard Ambarussa saying it to Lady Vána when she was dealing them punishments for digging the trap that she felt into.' Mára recounted. 'Maybe just bow instead.' 

'Okay' Siofra responded by lowering her head almost to the forest floor. 

Then she lost her balance. 

Little Mára managed to just about cling to her friend’s wrist to prevent her from falling head first into deep lake. 

The bracelet was not so lucky. The two girls caught a glimpse the sparkling eight pointed star before it vanished to the deeps. 

'Oh no!' Siofra gasped. 'That was a present from Pityo and Telvo! It was so pretty! And it matched my neck!' The elfling hysterically pointed to the inking of the same star behind her ear. 

'Well at least you had a present. I didn't! Not fair!' Mára still had not let go the fact that Siofra was Ambarussa's pet. 

Siofra ignored her friend's envy. Her panicked mind flitted through solutions to her dilemma. Only one answer came to mind. Siofra knew what she had to do. She braced herself. 

'Mára I'm going to dive for it. Count me down.' 

Mára's expression turned from jealousy to horror. 'Siofra no...Oromë said this lake has no bottom!' 

'I have to risk it!' replied Siofra, already beginning her run to the edge of the lake, driven by the bravery and/or stupidty that went hand in hand with the House of Finwë. 

Upon reaching the edge, she crouched, just like Ammë had taught her, then leapt, arms in front of her, legs flung up in the air, a diagonal line emerging into the deep. 

She knew she had not quite perfected swimming yet, but she pushed those fears aside. 

Upon hitting the surface, her body felt the shrill, ice cold water. It made her gasp in shock, thus leading to a few mouthfuls of water flooding down to her lungs. 

_Oops! Not good...I need to cough but I can't!_

She tried to pull herself down, to find her precious jewellery, but something was holding her back...something on her foot. She kicked but it would not go away...Someone was holding her ankle. 

She felt herself being pulled up out of the water- to her relief, though she would not like to admit it. She was hoisted up high, almost eye level with her rescuer, but she remained hanging upside down from her ankle. 

She coughed and spluttered water, half giddy from her little expedition. 

As her vision became less blurry and the water in her eyes dried, she got a big surprise on seeing just _who_ was holding her. 

'ATTO!' She squealed in delight, wriggling free from his grip and promptly slamming herself into his legs, hugging them as though it was the last time. 'YOU'RE BACK!' 

Atto, did not respond immediately, in fact he seemed a little paler than usual as he crouched down to her level and wrapped his strong arms around her skinny little bodice. Siofra felt he was hugging a little too tight. 

They stayed like so for a moment, before Tyelkormo pulled away enough to look into his daughter's eyes. 'Siofra! What were you doing in there! You have not finished learning how to swim! It is too deep onya, you could have drowned! We are a good ten minutes from camp!' 

Siofra did not like being told off, she always wanted to be a good girl for her parents, because perhaps if she was good they would stay longer. Therefore she was not used to being told off much, well not by Atto anyway...Ammë got cross a little more often...Ammë could be scary sometimes, but Siofra had gotten used to it...Atto...he hardly ever got cross... 

Therefore all it took for tears to come to her eyes was a few hysterical and panicked lines from Tyelkormo's mouth. 'But..But the _bracelet_ from the Ambarussa...m-me a-and Mára were playing and it was my crown and I bowed and it fell in and it had a star on it, like my tattoo so it was special and I couldn't just _leave_ it Atar! It is so beautiful!' 

Atar was quick to reply 'No don't cry onya, _ssshhh_ I am not angry, I just don't want anything bad to happen you. You are far more beautiful and precious than any damn jewel! Do not cry baby.' Tyelkormo hugged his child again, knowing he was far too soft but, since Írissë was not here, that he could get away with it. 

To give Tyelko credit, he was fairly quick at piecing together the pieces. 'This bracelet...Ambarussa gave it to you when they visited last? It had a star on it?' 

'Yes!' Siofra answered while rubbing her eyes, happy that Atto understood. 

Tyelko's eyes widened as he realised many things at once. He muttered under his breath 'Those two little...' Siofra didn't quite understand the word Atto used at the end. 

'Atto?' Siofra looked up at him with her gleaming bright eyes. 

'Yes onya?' Tyelkormo responded, waking from his imaginary rant to his youngest brothers, knowing no matter what she asked him he would comply. How could anyone say no to that perfect little face? Tyelko certainly could not. 

Which is why Tyelkormo found himself diving head first into the lake in an attempt to retrieve his daughter's bracelet, made by his Atar, meant for his Ammë. 

He had as much success in finding the bracelet as Fëanáro himself had. 

'I'm sorry onya, the lake really does have no bottom.' He emerged breathless and empty handed a few minutes later. 

Any disappointment his daughter may have had vanished at the sight of him, with lake weed in his hair, a drowned rat, no more than Siofra herself. 

Both Siofra and her friend burst into laughter. Practically falling and rolling round until their tummies hurt with mirth. 

_How exactly did my life come to this...?_ If one had told Tyelkormo fifty years prior that regular occurrence of his future included being the laughing stock of two little girls no less, he would never have believed it. 

Eyes flitting between both Mára and Siofra, Tyelkormo asked 'And what game were the two of you playing to cause such trouble?' 

'Manwë and Ingwë! ' the two elflings cried in unison. 

Tyelkormo almost fell back into the lake. 

'Wh-where did you hear about that posit- _game_ I mean.' It was fair to say that Tyelko wished for the ground to swallow him, if only to be spared of coming up with an explanation to an... _adult_ love-making position/move/ 'game' that he most definitely did not ever want to talk about, discuss or even acknowledge to any child, let alone his own daughter. 

If Siofra heard his unease, she ignored it. 

'You know it? Of course! You know almost everything! How do we play it Atar?' 

'Yes tell us how to play it, no one else would!' Mára chipped in. 

'I ahh...I cannot remember exactly...' Tyelko began. 

'When was the last time you played it?' Siofra demanded. 

'Who did you play it with? They might remember.' Mára added. 

Tyelkormo resisted the urge to cradle his face in his arms, or maybe just run away form this very uncomfortable conversation. 

However, in his awkwardness, he saw a solution. He smiled all too sweetly at the girls. 

'You know what? The last time I played Manwë and Ingwë was with your Ammë Siofra, I think it was the day you were begot. Your Ammë loves that game you know? And any questions you have about it you should ask her.' He smirked to himself, passing the problem to Írissë seemed as good a solution as any. Even her wrath was better than this. 

'Okay Atto! C'mon Mára we have to go right now and ask Ammë...' 

'Wait...Ammë is here? Already...? Tyelkormo could not hide the panic in his voice as he felt a very familiar presence behind him... 

'Ask me what?' a speaker seemed to materialise out of thin air. 

'Ammë!' Tyelkormo and Siofra both shouted and turned simultaneously to face no other than Írissë, who had arrived a few hours prior. On seeing both father and daughter sopping wet, she threw a look at Tyelkormo. 

She spoke in osanwë. _The two of you are alone for no more than five minutes and look at the state of you!_

_Do not say you did not miss me Írissë..._ Tyelkormo smirked... _Formenos is so cold and lonely without you._

_And whose fault is it that you are there...?_ Írissë raised an eyebrow, holding no pity _...Nerdanel returned to Tirion...why can't you...?_

_Same reason you can't leave Tirion for Formenos...Family loyalty..._

_Your Ammë is as much your family as your Atar..._

_Atar and Ammë haven't been seeing eye to eye for some time now. She leaves to return to her craft, for some space and time alone...as I leave for the woods. I'd much rather return here to the both of you where I can love you openly and avoid the whispers about Atar that would plague me constantly in Tirion._

_Fair enough..._ Írissë sighed. _I missed you too. But seriously Tyelko what in the Valar are the two of you doing? You're both soaked!_

_It's a long story..._

_Let me guess, you couldn't say no?_

_Something along the lines of that..._ Tyelko did not even try to hide it. 

The couple's conversation was cut short as Siofra flung herself into Írissë's legs this time. 'AMMË! The birds said you had arrived but I was here so I didn't see you!' 

'Come here baby.' Írissë lifted her daughter onto her hip, ignoring the muddy stains she received on her white riding dress she had not yet changed. 'I missed you so, so much my Aranya.' 

As she kissed Aranya on the forehead, a feeling of warmth and emotion that Tyelko would never admit feeling swirled through his being. Those two were his whole world. 

Times like these made him long for more children, despite the challenges, despite the ongoing banishment, despite the secrecy, he longed for a few siblings for his daughter, too give a big _'Fuck You!'_ to the world that seemed to keep him apart from his child for far too long. He wanted her to have the memories of childhood he had, growing up with six brothers ensured Tyelkormo was never truly lonely. He was sure Írissë and he could manage it...if that was also what Írissë wanted. 

However, Tyelko was also _afraid_ of the idea of begetting another child. In his dreams he saw Írissë with a boy who looked much like her. Her son... _My son?_... He sincerely hoped so. The alternative was unthinkable. 

The boy in his dreams had a life full of darkness, fear, loathing and misery. 

The dream always went the same way. Írissë raised him alone, in the dark. Then he was pulled forward a few years, and beheld the boy as a grown adult. He would walk alone through a city much like Tirion, but it was not. 

He would catch a glimpse of who could not be anyone but Siofra, grown up, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as the two sat below stars in a sky darker than he had ever seen. Finally he would feel pain...pain more terrible than Tyelkormo could possibly begin to comprehend... torture... interrogation... breaking... 

He did not know what this dream meant, he assured himself constantly it meant nothing. He did not have the gift of foresight, unlike his Ammë. But why was Írissë alone? Why was the sky so dark? Why was he unable to recognise the city? Why did he not feel the same attachment to the boy in his visions as he did with Siofra? 

_Because the boy is not real! I am simply imagining things and that dream was naught but a strange type of nightmare. Of course I would be there for my son if Írissë and I were blessed with one. Írissë would never be left alone in such a dark maleficent place with a child no less! I would never allow it, be he our son or hers alone! I would never let someone I loved be tortured, tainted, tormented and broken, I would kill the oppressor with my own hands!_

A small hand tapping his knee woke him form his dark musings. Mára looked up at him with her chocolate brown eyes. She wanted to be carried. The old Tyelko probably would have refused. But now... 

_When did elflings become so adorable? Damn it!_

Mára whooped as he picked her up and carried her on his shoulders. 

'Your Ammë was looking for you Mára. She is planning on teaching you how to set rabbit traps.' Írissë called over. 

'Yayyy!' squealed Mára. 

'But what about the game Mára? Siofra asked. 'Now Ammë is here she will tell us how to play it!' 

Tyelkormo almost froze in shock, barely composing himself enough to conceal his fear... _No no no! Siofra could you not have waited until I was a good ten leagues away before you mentioned that to your Ammë?!_

'I am sure you can wait until later to play.' Írissë insisted, and for a brief moment Tyelkormo thought he had gotten away with his earlier cheating of the question. 

But then Írissë asked. 'What game is it you two are playing.' 

_Siofra, don't let Atto down, come on...please just say any game other than Manwë and Ingwë..._

'Your _favourite_ game Ammë! One Atar said you loved and that I could ask you how to play it cos Atar does not remember.' 

'What game is this ?' Írissë asked again. 

'MANWË AND INGWË!' the two elfling's cried again. 

Írissë's face went blank with shock, before she slowly raised an eyebrow, turning to face Tyelko. 

It took all of Tyelko's willpower not to flinch at the sweet smile Írissë shot him, before turning back to her daughter. 'Baby, your Atto is far too humble...did you know it was he who _invented_ that... _game.'_

' Really Ammë?' Siofra's eyes were wide. 

'Really.' Írissë assured, a smug triumphant smirk on her face. 

_ÍRISSË!_ Tyelkormo cried through their bond. 

_Yes darling?_

_Why did you tell her that?_

_It is the truth._

_You do realise someday she will grow up and realise the true nature 'Manwë and Ingwë'? I do not want my daughter to get any ideas of that kind, especially from me!_

_What is this, the biggest player in Tirion suddenly is against his daughter playing the game?_

_We all know that Makalaurë was the biggest player, he could play níssi as well as he played the harp. And he had his magical voice to charm them._

_Perhaps that is true...and he also had manners..._

_Are you implying I don't?_

_I think Ossë has better manners than you._

_At least I didn't court níssi for the sole purpose of songwriting inspiration._

_No...your motives were far less innocent... Returning to the problem at hand Tyelko, you do realise that telling her 'Manwë and Ingwë' was my favourite game is as bad as me telling her you invented it?_

Tyelko could find no answer to that. 

_Afraid of the courting neri chasing her already Tyelko?_ Ìrissë could not resist. _I thought you would be the opposite of the overprotective father..._

_Really?_ Tyelko raised his eyebrows. 

_No. You were overprotective of me before we were even together!_

_Hhmmmpphh_

_Lucky for you Meldo, I have a solution to the mess you have gotten us into, as always._

Turning back to Aranya, Írissë responded to her daughter. 'But I am afraid Aranya and Mára, that to play that game you have to be an adult. 

'Why!?' demanded Siofra. 

'That is just the rules onya' Írissë's tone left nothing up for argument. 

'But AMM-' 

'No no 'buts' Anya, rules are rules.' 

_When did you ever do anything by the rules Melda?_ This time it was Tyelko who could not resist. 

_Do you want to explain a sex position to her Tyelko?_ Írissë snapped. 

_Sorry_ he muttered rapidly back. 

'But...Atto made the game...he can change the rules...' Siofra crinkled her brow in thought. 

'Actually he can't...see the rules are set and only two people in these woods have the power to change them...' 

'Who?' both elflings looked intrigued. 

'Who is the most powerful in these woods?' Írissë had a smug look about her as she composed a long winded tale. Tyelko shot her a sly smirk as he realised what she was doing. 

Both Siofra and Mára looked at each other, before shouting 'OROMË AND VÁNA!' 

'That's right!' Írissë laughed. 'But I would leave poor Vána alone, she is busy tending to the flowers of the forest. Any questions you have you can ask Oromë...' 

The two pairs of eyes looked at each with the excitement only the young can possess. They both sprung to the ground, taking leave of their carriers, and sprinted off to camp, with a very important question for a Vala who was about to find himself in a very tricky situation indeed. 

All Tyelkormo and Írissë could do was laugh. 

When the moment had passed Tyelko turned to Írissë. 'You know...' he began, voice sounding as innocent as he could make it...'while we are on the subject of 'Manwë and Ingwë'...it has been a while since we...played that _'game'_.' He could not hide the suggestive smirk that made its way too his face. 

Írissë was not fooled. 'Yes I believe it was the fateful day Turcafinwë Tyelkormo could not resist staying inside me a second too long.' Her smirk matched his. 

'I am not sorry.' How could he be? In fact sometimes it was insane to imagine how slight the odds of Siofra's existence were...they used to be so careful. 

'Nor am I' Írissë's smirk turned to a beam, and Valar, she looked so beautiful Tyelkormo found himself crashing into her arms, not dissimilar to his daughter's manner of doing so. 

'Easy!' Írissë laughed, he loved Írissë's laugh. She leaned into his ear and whispered 'Trying to floor me already Tyelko?', her voice full of lust. 

'Actually I would rather you went on your knees...' He did not bother to conceal his intentions. 

'You want me to be Ingwë?' She breathed, her hand already on his crotch. 

'Yes' he half whispered, half moaned. They had spent too much time apart...he needed it... 

Írissë made to comply, kneeling in front of him, freeing him of the few leathers he wore. 

However she stopped at the last minute, looking up at Tyelko with the eyes of a temptress. 

'You _TEASE! Please_ Írissë! _Please_ go on!' 

To his horror she casually stood up, as if she had not just made his heart soar and crash to the ground. 

'Why?' He sounded desperate. He didn't care, he was. 

She leaned over and whispered into his neck. 'If you want me to please you, first you must do what I ask.' 

Tyelko gasped, hesitating, trying to think of a way to convince her to please him _first._

Írissë proceeded to strip off her dress and stood there naked in front of him, blinding him with her glowing beauty, the vision of his dreams. 

Slowly she backed away... 

'WAIT! I'LL DO IT I'LL DO ANYTHING!' How did Írissë have so much self control? He knew he had none. 

'Very well' she purred, biting her lip. She cradled his face in her hand. ' _Down._ I will be Manwë first and you are Ingw- _...ahhh AHHH! ooh...TYELK- AHHH YESSS! AHHHHH!_ ' She gasped between cries and moans of passion, raking her hands through his hair. 

Tyelkormo had begun obeying the command before Írisse had finished giving it. She finally lost her composure to his touch. 

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

An hour later, the hunters and warriors alike found themselves assembled in a grand arena, below hundreds of thousands of people. As if that was not overwhelming enough, the Valar all were in attendance, even Ulmo. 

Siofra and Kyelaeron looked up to gaze upon the Valar they had never seen before, but had heard of many times (Mostly in Oromë's rants about how idiotic some were.) 

Also in attendance were the Kings of each Eldar city. Arafinwë they had seen before of course. He paid his respects to Manwë before moving along, allowing his law- father to do the same. 

Olwë was unmistakable, Telerin silver hair flowing in the wind, his crown shaped in the figure of the swan. His robes were a different style to the Noldor royalty, a style suited to sailing, imitating the water and waves in with each flow of the fabric. He made his way to Manwë's throne and bowed low. 

Siofra felt another rush of pain through her as she recalled what she had just learned, that Teleri had been killed for the ships. Why? How could people have done such a thing!? It went against every moral she had been taught, it broke the unspoken creed every hunter lived by. Surely her Atar and Ammë did not take part in the violence? They were hunters. They did not kill so carelessly. It was not possible! 

_They did not kill anyone! I knew them. They were good people. They were my parents. I have nothing to fear._

_Are you alright Anya?_ Kyelaeron's soothing voice echoed in her head. 

_I just...I can't believe the Noldor killed for ships. It makes me sick._

_I can't believe you didn't know...Then again it is not something anyone ever wishes to talk about. Do not let it trouble you osellë. There was nothing we could have done, we were children at the time. I am sure Lord Námo would not be so cold hearted to keep the fallen Teleri in his halls for too long..._

_It may be a short time in the eyes of the Valar, but a few hundred years in the Halls is enough for a parent to miss out on the childhood of their sons and daughters...You and I both know how that feels...the difference is our parents had a choice...the Teleri..they..._

Siofra was on the verge of tears. 

Kyelaeron knew he needed to think fast to console his osellë. The Games were about to begin. Alqualondë was a heavy burden on his heart also, as it was for all Noldor. But he and Siofra had lost enough to the Flight. He was going to make sure it was not the reason they lost the Games also. 

_We both lost many things during the flight. And half of our people were doomed. But...I am glad the flight happened. Who knows where I would be if my parents remained here. I would probably be a prissy warrior now. And a proper Lord, with a stick up my arse! And the greatest dancer and musician in Tirion, but Alas!_

Siofra giggled. _Where are you going with this? And you are still all of those things!_

Excuse me?! 

_Once a prissy Lord always a prissy Lord, my Lord. Siofra smirked._

_Oh shut up Anya! My point is...I would never have joined the hunters if the flight never happened. And I would never have met you..._

Siofra smiled warmly, before replying _Exactly! My life would have been so much better if it wasn't for the flight!_

_ANYA!_ Kyelaeron tried to sound offended but failed, he was happy his words had the effect he desired. Aranya was back to her usual mischievous self. 

Their eyes returned to the scene above them. Another king stepped forward. His hair seemed to shine as bright as Anar. Beads adorned his intricate braids. His robes were brightly coloured. A more regal style than the previous two, if such was even possible. He geneflected onto his knees and kissed the hand of the king of the Valar. He stayed in this position for longer than Siofra's patience permitted, so busy he was singing prayers of praise to Manwë. 

_For Eru's sake would that Vanya idiot ever get off his arse and let us begin!_ She exasperatedly sighed. 

_What did you expect Anya? It is Ingwë after all!_ Kyelaeron smirked. 

_Wait as in...?_ Something long forgotten clicked in Siofra's mind 

_Yes as in the King of the Vanyar and according to Oromë the biggest lickarse to walk the face of Am-...'_

_AS IN THE GAME MANWË AND INGWË!?_ Siofra yelled in excitement through their bond. 

Kyelaeron shot her an amused look before he shook his head with humor, replying _Of course that is the first thing that comes to your mind!_

Siofra did not know if it was the nerves, or the fact that she had felt low a few moments ago before soaring back to high, or if it was the scene she had just witnessed, or a memory from her childhood that was just so _funny._ But she found herself hunkered over on the ground in a fit of laughter she could not shake. 

Kyelaeron tried to end it. _Anya please stop...you know when you laugh in a crowd it will not be long before I start._

She did not stop. 

A few seconds later Kyelaeron had joined in the laughter. The two desperately tried to hide their faces, hoping to be concealed in the crowd. 

Mára, looking over her shoulder to see what the commotion was, caught eyes with Siofra. 

Nothing more needed to be said. The childhood memory had already resurfaced in her mind. 

Another voice joined the laughter. 

It was not long before Vána was scolding them in their heads from her position high above the crowds. _THE THREE OF YOU **CALM DOWN!** NERVES ARE NO EXCUSE FOR THIS! WHAT IN ERU IS SO FUNNY? _

_Sorry Vána_ Siofra managed to choke out between her cries of mirth, _But...do you...remember..Mára..and me...asking Oromë...how to... play..._

The giggles defeated Siofra before she could finish her explanation but Vána seemed to get the message. Her eyes widened and Kyelaeron swore he saw her lips curve upward before she promptly pulled her veil over her face and began to shake suspiciously. 

Oromë looked to his wife and then to his King and then to his three young charges and placed a hand on his forehead, leaning his elbows onto his lap. Unlike his lady he made no attempt to conceal his emotions. He appeared to be cringing. As if remembering something he wished to completely erase from his memory. 

Unknown to any of those in on the joke, another pair of eyes stared at the boisterous hunters, in particular at the girl who started the chaos. 

This time she did not glare however. 

In fact, if one looked closely enough, the faintest of smiles could be seen on her usually cold face. 

sSsSssSSsSSsSsSsssSS 

Anairë sat in the Noldor royal box as always. She maintained her regal and stern etiquette, but now she struggled to keep her facade up. How could she? She did not feel so alone anymore. She resisted the urge to smile when she once again heard her daughter's laugh coming from that bold young huntress. Her _granddaughter._ It was so strange calling her that. She did not know this nís at all really. She wished she did. 

She did not feel the same way she had when in the presence of little Itarillë. This was a different emotion, the slightest bond that the young huntress did not even know exsisted. Anairë hoped with time it would become just as strong. 

She took in a deep breath. Yesterday, her life had taken a turn for the better. She received help she did not know she needed, from someone she least expected it from. 

She was by no means fully healed...but.. the melancholy...the loneliness the grief and misery and pain...they all seemed a little further away than before. How was the answer so simple? All she had needed to do was to let her emotions out, and talk about the grief...with people who knew how she felt. 

She had a friends now, who would help her through this, law-sisters who suffered the same as she, who understood, who a lot of the time regretted staying also, regretted things they had said, done, or perhaps could have done. They would support each other from this day forward...What fools they all were to bear their burdens alone until now. 

Life was just becoming bearable again...Anairë could finally _breathe._ Finally _smile_ , not scowl. 

Well...in public she could _almost_ smile. 

She gazed across from her and caught eyes with her three law-sisters. They nodded and gave her smiles of encouragement, quite amused at the outbreak of giggles among the hunters. (Anairë knew that if this nís was half her mother's daughter she would most likely be laughing at King Ingwë...some things never change.) 

Nerdanel gave her a discreet squeeze of the hand. The events of yesterday sprang to mind. 

sSsSSSsSSsSSsSssSSSsSSsSSSss 

The day before...Tirion, First Age 505... 

Findis led Nerdanel through private quarters she had rarely seen. She calmed herself. Yes Anairë was bitter and stubborn and set in her ways, but Nerdanel was well used to such traits. No one was as stubborn as Fëanáro. 

Finally they came to a halt at an intricately carved door. Findis expression saddened. She whispered 'Brace yourself... in her private quarters she is a different Anairë.' 

Indeed when Nerdanel strained her hearing enough she swore she could hear _crying._

Findis knocked softly on the door, before opening it gently. Nerdanel did not miss her discreetly locking the door, pocketing the key. 

Nerdanel would not in a million years expect the room she had walked into to belong to Anairë of all people. She was almost sure Ambarussa kept their bedroom tidier than this. 

'Anairë. It is me, Findis. Bad day again?' This was clearly a sight that Findis had grown used to. 

Nerdanel could not see Anairë and almost jumped when she heard a pile of crumpled sheets cry 'No...I am... _fine._ Just... leave...me be to...day.' Each word was interrupted by sobs. 

Nerdanel spied a bottle of mirúvorë on the bedside table. Half empty. 

Findis sighed, used to such responses too. 'I am afraid I cannot do that today nésa, I have...a visitor for you.' 

Anairë sprung up from her bed so fast Nerdanel had to blink a few times. Her hair was in a braid that had turned messy with the friction of the sheets, her eyes were red from tears, her cheeks streaked. All she wore was a nightdress, although it was only early afternoon. She looked much younger in such a state, no more than Nerdanel she was barely of age when she married. 

However, on seeing Nerdanel, the regal Anairë returned in an instant. Gone were any signs of emotion or distress. 'YOU!... ' She cried with rage, 'GET OUT!' 

Nerdanel did not move. 'We need to talk Anairë, it cannot wait.' 

'After everything your kin has done? How _dare_ you! LEAVE NOW!' Nerdanel began to believe there would be no getting through to the wife of Nolo. She made to leave. Findis restrained her. 

'Please listen Anairë, it has as much to do with you as it does Nerdanel.' 

Anairë rose an eyebrow. 'Whatever you have to say is irrelevant. It is most improper to storm into my bedroom when I am not in a decent state and if you will not leave, I will. 

She stormed across the room to her door, only to find it locked. 'WHAT IS THIS!? You keep me hostage in my own chambers!? GUARDS!' 

'There are none to hear you Anairë. I ordered them away for privacy.' Findis could not help the smug tone her voice took. 

Anairë threw her one of her glares. Findis did not so much as bat an eyelid. 

'Whatever you have to say, spill it. I want the two of you to leave as soon as possible.' Anaire pulled a silk dressing gown over her petitie figure and sat on the edge of her bed, back straight, legs and arms crossed. 

Nerdanel took this as her cue. 'I believe you and I have a granddaughter that has until this time been unknown to us.' There was no 'right' way to divulge such a thing and Nerdanel figured it was best to be blunt. 

Anairë did not react with as much protest as both Findis or Nerdanel expected. Her eyes narrowed, she clearly understood what it meant for both her and Nerdanel to be grandmother to the same child. 'What you are implying is absurd.' she replied coolly. 

'Anairë I have proof...it’s all there...like it or not we need your infl-...' 

'MY ÍRISSE DID NOT BIND HERSELF IN SUCH A MANNER TO YOUR PIGHEADED THIRD SON!' 

Nerdanel could not take such an insult to her son. 

YOU TAKE THAT BACK! TYELKORMO WAS PROUD BUT HE HAD THE BIGGEST HEART, FOR THOSE WHO TREATED HIM WITH RESPECT, NOT JUDGEMENT! She glared with the intensity years of being with Fëanáro had taught her. 

Both níssi found themselves face to face. Rage emanating from both of them. 

'THE TWO OF YOU CALM DOWN! I WOULD LIKE TO THINK YOU ARE BOTH A LITTLE WISER THAN YOUR STUBBORN HUSBANDS! YOU SOUND JUST LIKE THEM!' 

Somehow, the daughter of Finwë made the two law-sisters flinch. 

'Wait...' Nerdanel began...'You knew Tyelkormo and Írissë are the parents...I did not say anything of that sort...' 

'We only have one daughter between us _Nerdanel...'_ Anairë did not utter her name kindly '...so of course Írissë would be one of the parents. And which of your sons was she constantly running off with?' 

'Tyelko' Nerdanel sighed. 

'Anairë...' Findis narrowed her eyes, staring deeply into Anairë's '...You do not seem as shocked as I expected you to be...You knew immediately Tyelkormo was the father and...you do not appear angry more than you are in denial...you _knew.'_

Nerdanel's eyes darted to Anairë. 'You knew? _How?'_

Anairë remained silent for a moment, before shaking her head. 'Look, you have NO proof that _...huntress..._ is Írissë's child. Tyelkormo's certainly, but it is no secret that he shared a bed with half of Tirion's maidens and probably more huntresses. For all we know this girl could have been born before Tyelkormo and Írissë even met.' 

Nerdanel frowned at Anairë's crude description of her son but could not deny the truth in it. But Anairë's presumptions were not completely accurate either. 'She was born after Tyelkormo and Írissë met, after their Games. She is just short of six hundred years. You know Tyelkormo did not have such a... _wild_ lovelife after his adolescence...he settled down much.' 

'Are you implying my daughter is the reason?' Anairë sounded offended to say the least. 

'Yes I am.' Nerdanel answered truthfully. 'Think Anairë...they were hiding under our noses, we were blinded by the fact they were cousins- 

' _Half_ -cousins.' Anaire interrupted. 

'Half-cousins, another excuse they probably told themselves.' Nerdanel corrected herself. 'They were more than just friends, more than otorno and osellë Anairë.' 

Anairë stared at Nerdanel for what felt like an eternity. Nerdanel did not flinch nor back away, but she would never had guessed a battle was being waged in the mind of the wife of Nolofinwë. 

Finally Anairë broke the gaze. Her internal battle had ended. She was not completely certain she was happy with the victor. 

Anairë looked as if she was about to lash out in sheer anger. But the moment passed. She slumped back onto the bed, her face in her palms, elbows on her lap, vunerable, defeated, 'I..I know they were... _together_...in that way. I... saw them one day, in the gardens. Every moral I clung to demanded I turned them in, demanded that I destroy them, they would have been exiled, royalty or not Finwë would never stand for such. Their reputations ruined. I wonder did they even realise how great a risk they were taking...they were so carefree and young...and it reminded me of myself before I put duty ahead of love..I am sorry to say Nerdanel I probably would have turned Tyelkormo in...How dare he touch my daughter?... How dare he steal her innocence like so, or the little she had left. I hated how he gave my daughter the freedom and love that I could not.' 

'But I could not turn them in, I could never see Írissë runied in such a way. She was my baby girl...I remember cradling her in my arms and thinking I was the luckiest nís alive. I had a little me to cherish, a bond different to that I shared with my sons. I...' Anairë's voice hitched. 'She was the first granddaughter of Finwë after how many boys? I wanted to make sure she was treated like the most precious princess the land had ever been graced with. I wanted to make sure she never had the hunger in her belly I had to endure, never had to bear the shame of begging in rags and dirt. People refusing to so much as look at you, do you know how that feels!? It feels as though you are so unimportant you are not worth the smallest glance! So yes, I wanted Írissë to feel privileged, admired by all, dressed in finery and clean. I wanted her to have the security marriage provided and the carefree life of a noble nís, the traditional sort who does not have to do a thing for themselves, never mind work and certainly not _fight._

But the funny thing was, Írissë did not want to be a princess. And I did not see or accept that until it was too late. The only one who fully understood her was Tyelkormo... and I loath him for it...but at least her made her _happy._

'You...you are not of noble descent?' Nerdanel had to ask. 'I always presumed.. you were so...' 

'So ladylike?' Anairë let out a bitter laugh. 'I started and the bottom and worked my fingers to the bone until I climbed and climbed. I lived by the phrase 'Fake it until you make it' for so long I forgot who I truly was. Even after I married Nolo...and do not get me wrong, I loved him, it was not for status, I already had riches and titles by the time we met... that fear of going hungry, of losing everything...it was inbred in me. So I faked it more and more and more...and I lost _everything..._

Findis and Nerdanel were taken aback at Anairë's spontaneous spilling of her heart. 'The charity work you did...for the poorer citizens...' Findis gasped. 

'At least one good thing came from my acting skills.' Anairë said dryly. 'I ensured no child or family would ever had to live through what I did again. And I have to laugh. Here I am, as I was all those years ago alone, no hope for the future, no family. The only difference is I am in a palace, and have unlimited access to mirúvorë.' 

She made to pour herself a glass. Findis grabbed the bottle before she could. Anairë feigned indifference, while discreetly checking how tight the princess' grip was. 

'But Anairë. You have family. You have all of us 'royals' and ...you have Siofra Aranya... your granddaughter.' Nerdanel began. 

That certainly took her mind off mirúvorë. 

'Aranya...' Anairë almost smiled. 'Of course Írissë would call her firstborn 'freedom'. She gazed into the distance, unseeing. 'I always wanted to be free, that is why I worked so hard. Riches freed me of the hardships in life, before imprisoning me with novelties I was not used to, and therefore did not see them for what they were. Írissë did, for she was born into it. Our childhoods were very different, but such is the struggle of both rags and riches. Neither are free, one is just a tad more comfortable than the other.'

'I know the child is hers. She did not drink at Kanafinwë's wedding, she disappeared to the woods for over a year, she sang lullabies in her sleep...it...she reminded me of myself, when my daughter was a beautiful little babe and all mine and I loved her more than any ridiculous manners and...Aranya has her _laugh.'_

The tears flooded Anairë'e eyes again. 

Findis and Nerdanel were immediately by her side. 'Anairë, it is alright...they loved you, they know you loved them.' Findis consoled. 

'I know how you feel Anairë...the pain will ease, but never will go away...until they all return. And they will.' Nerdanel assured. 

Anaire suddenly stood up, angry again. 'You do not know how I feel! My husband chose Fëanáro over me! And all of our children followed! They did not even take the lack of unburnt ships as good enough reason to return home! They crossed the _HELCARAXË_ for the sake of pride! And for the sake of desperate eagerness to be accepted by a half brother who Nolo was never good enough for. No matter what he did!' 

'I know EXACTLY how you feel! When will you realise I am as lonely as you are! I had as much say in them leaving Aman and burning the ships as you. My story is the same as yours! Except instead of his brother, my husband chose _jewels_ over me! And my _children,_ my _boys_ , my _pride_ and _joy_ followed! Not only did they follow but they sold their souls! _FOR JEWELS!_ Eru knows if I will ever see them again! I am not angry Anairë but I am _SICK_ of being blamed for something I was against from the beginning! 

There was a tense silence in the air. 

A knock sounded on the door, breaking the sound of silence. 

'Anairë? Findis? Nerdanel? A voice as gentle as a sea breeze called from the door. 'The guards told me I would find you all here. I apologise Ara and I missed tea Nerdanel, welcome to the palace.' 

Findis strolled over to the door, opening it and letting the Queen in. Eärwen looked startled at the scene in front of her. She closed the door behind her, before asking. 'What has happened here? Are you all alright? Valar Anairë, Nerdanel the two of you are in tears!' 

When neither replied to Eärwen's concern Findis, silently confirming with the two grandmothers that it was alright with them to let Eärwen in on the secret, quickly explained the situation at hand. Eärwen, to give her credit, took the heritage of Siofra Aranya in her stride. If anything she seemed more concerned about the states her law-sisters had gotten themselves into. 

She lowered herself onto Anairë's mattress, beside Anairë, gesturing Nerdanel to sit at her other side. 'I know those looks. Come on, let us chat. And let everything out, hold nothing in. Personally, I find myself in need of a good cry at the moment, these Games bring back many memories.' She wrapped her arms around the grieving mothers and pulled them close, _mothering_ them. 

It was not long before the three of them were bawling, telling each other stories of their children, of better times. With Eärwen's gentle prodding, Anairë and Nerdanel made peace. Both apologised for their angered words, Anairë apologising for slighting Nerdanel's family, and for her ignorance to the pain Nerdanel too must be feeling. Anairë agreed to protect Aranya's secret heritage, Nerdanel needn't have even asked, she would always protect what was probably the most precious part of Írissë's life. 

Findis left the three mothers to cry a little longer, stating she would inform Ara and Indis to not expect the three of them at dinner, promising she would arrange it be brought to Anairë's door. 

As she closed the door behind her, she smiled. Another problem solved from the shadows. 

sSsSssSsSsSsssSsSsSsSSsSs 

_Present day...Tirion, First Age 505..._

'Listen carefully! The Trials will only be explained once!' Tanwë's voice echoed throughout the arena. 'The Trials have been composed by my fellow champions and I, overlooked by the Valar, save for Lords Oromë and Tulkas and Ladies Vána and Nessa, to ensure fair play. 

'We are sworn to secrecy, any attempt from any of you in the forthcoming days to bribe any of us for information or hints as regards what awaits you in the arena will result in immediate disqualification.' 

'You all have been briefed on forbidden weapons and medicines, you will be searched and checked before each trial for these. Combat may be necessary in the trials, but any serious intended injury to ones opponent or foul play will result in disqualification.' 

'Any offense, verbal or otherwise to the race, gender or class of a fellow competitor will end in disqualification, however you must have significant evidence when claiming you have been offended, attempts to frame an innocent competitor will mean immediate disqualification.' 

Siofra whispered to Kyelaeron 'Remind me if I ever am about to break one of the million rules she has just thrown in our face.' 

'Forgetting the rules Aranya will result in _immediate DISQUALIFICATION!'_ Kyelaeron smirked as he shot back a response. 

'Do not make me laugh again.' 

'You are more than capable doing that to yourself, as you proved moments ago.' 

'Hmmph' The two turned to face Tanwë. 

'The First Trial...' Tanwë began, '...consists of a maze. You will be blindfolded and tied to a partner. You must use teamwork and communication skills to untie yourselves before you enter the maze. Once inside, you may use whatever skills you have acquired during your training to overcome the obstacles in your way, within the rules. You must find the centre. There are many correct routes, and even more incorrect ones. This Games we have been blessed with an equal number on both sides. There are fifty hunters and fifty warriors alike. The first twenty five pairs to the centre will progress to the second trial. Am I Clear? 

The competitors mumured in agreement. 

_Partners?_ Siofra asked Kyelaeron. 

_You didn't even need to ask osellë. With our communication skills, we will fly through this Trial._

_Do not jinx us otorno! But I admit, I feel confident about this Trial too._

As if she had heard them, Tanwë began again, a smug look on her face. 'And one final piece of information!' She began 'Partners will be comprised of one Hunter and one Warrior. 

There was a collective gasp of panic through the two groups of competitors. 

sSsSssSsSSsssSsSsSSsSssSsSSssssSs 

Tanwë smirked the final pair of blindfolded warrior and hunter were tangled together in knots of strong rope. The faces of disgust on some (mostly warriors, but not all) was humorous indeed. 

She herself took credit for this idea. When brainstorming ideas for the trials she had made a habit of inventing something she would have absolutely hated. Teamwork and opponents were two things that she certainly did not have the patience for. Combine them together and you have perfect Aráto material. 

_Speaking of impatience I wonder how Hasty Riser 2.0 is taking this._

She took a brief moment to locate the silvery blonde curls. Siofra did not seem too bothered, more nervous if anything. She was currently talking very fast to her partner- a warrior, a nís, one of the-... _oh no..._

...one of the Teleri. 

Tanwë began to panic. 

_It is fine. She knows now not to say anything. It will be fine, there is nothing I can do now, Tirion is watching..._

_CURSE YOU OROME! AI VALAR THAT HEADBAND BETTER NOT COME OFF..._

_...This is going to result in a second kinslaying...resuming the Aráto Games was a terrible idea..._

_Just breathe..it will be fine...she is not stupid..._

Tanwë was right in one sense, there was nothing she could do about the girls unfortunate partnering now. She resumed her duties. 

'Lady Yavanna.' She boomed, her voice stretching across the crowd, to where the Vala in question sat. Tanwë bowed her head in acknowledgement. 'It is time, my Lady. 

Yavanna wove herself a rope ladder of entwined twigs from nothing, gliding down to the centre of the arena. She knelt and kissed the ground and as she rose back up, trees grew up from the ground, lacing their branches and leaves into each other, an intricate maze being formed in the process. The spectators gasped, Yavanna's power was truly a wonder to behold, even to one who had witnessed it many times. Tanwë almost pitied those she had just blinded temporarily. 

The trees grew until Tanwë could no longer see in front of her. A Large oak, taller than any of its surrounding trees marked the centre. Yavanna stood on its tallest branch as it grew, swinging from a wayward vine back to her seat. 

'Lord Aulë.' Tanwë called next. The smith, unlike his spouse, did not even bother to move from where he sat. A clank echoed throughout the arena. Aulë nodded, content his work was complete. 

One after another selected Vala contributed their own to the maze, all called on by Tanwë. Irmo composed illusions and mirages, Vairë weaved nets so fine they were as entrapping as any of the work of Ungoliant's, Ulmo ensured swimming would be a necessary asset to one who wished tread a great many of the paths. 

Most expected that would be all the Valar would contribute, however, Tanwë had one final call to make. 

'Lord Námo.' The air fell still. The Lord of the Dead, mysterious dropped down in an ominous leap, disappearing with what was...was that a soul? No...well it was not an Eldar soul anyway...and suddenly there was a hroa, the fëa re-entering with the Lord's touch. And then... 

The crowd yet again gasped as they saw what 'obstacle' Námo had to give. 

Oromë made to storm into the maze and retrieve what he felt was rightfully his, or rightfully belonging someone who was once the equivalent of his son. Vána somehow stopped him. 

Nerdanel only felt fear. The fact the 'obstacle' was here and not across the sea only meant bad news for her house, for her sons, her third son in particular. 

_Never did I think I would see the day you would not be by Tyelko's side..._ She silently whispered, unsure if he could truly hear her or not. 

It was as if nothing had ever changed, his eyes from the maze somehow met hers, all the way up in the stands, he knew more than any of his kind ought to. Staring directly at Nerdanel, he replied to her inner musings... 

_'Woof!'_

sSSsSsssSSsSssSssSSssSSssSS 

After being blinded and binded to a complete stranger, each competitior had different reactions and experiences. 

'Hullo!' Siofra blurted the moment the knot had been tied. 'My name is Siofra, I'm from the woods, well you already know that but I've been there my whole life and I've never seen the city before, even though my Atar and Ammë were from Tirion. Anyway I am very nervous and I thought this trial would be easy 'cos my otorno and I use osanwë and we know each other well but then Tanwë said we had to partner with the warriors and here we are. But enough about me who are you!?' 

'Lindë' was the only soft-spoken reply Siofra received. Siofra was not content with just that. 

'Where are you from Lindë? I have never heard an accent like yours before.' 

'Alqualondë.' 

_SHIT! Of all places, why does she have to be from there?...I am going to cry again..no I cannot think about that now. Okay I am going to avoid the topic of Alqualondë completely...'_

'Have you been with the warriors long?' Siofra was quick to change the subject. 

'I joined when I was a young girl after...after the... _Flight.'_ the final word was uttered with as much gentleness as Oromë in a rage. 

_Thank Eru I covered my tattoo..._ Siofra would have face-palmed had her hands been free. 

'I...I am sorry.' What else could Siofra say? 

Lindë sighed. 'Don't be...I am sure you and your family had nothing to do with it.' 

'No...we..we didn't.' Well it was probably the truth _...Atar and Ammë are innocent...I know it!_

'So Siofra, how do you suppose we get out of this mess?' This time Lindë broke the silence. 

'I think we should try to rid the blindfolds first. Then we will be able to see what we are doing.' Siofra affirmed. 

'I agree.' Lindë replied. 'Can you reach any of your weapons? ' 

'No' Siofra sighed. 'They made sure to tie our hands well away from them.' 

Lindë rolled her eyes. On doing so, she noticed something. 'Siofra, raise your eyebrows up and down your forehead. The blindfolds are loose enough to move down.' 

'Excellent!' Siofra exclaimed. 'You are right. So, our plan of action is to get these blindfolds off, then undo the knots, then...?' 

'Impossible to predict what will be in the maze. How about we improvise to each situation and try to go as quickly as we can , while also being steady enough to _think.'_

'Agreed. We've got this Lindë!' 

'Let's break a leg!' 

The two níssi fell silent as they heard Yavanna called to centre stage, to create the maze they would soon battle. 

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

A few paces away, Kyelaeron was having no such luck with his partner as Siofra. 

He could feel the judgement pouring out of the ner he was tied to. A Vanya, who clearly thought the mannerisms of the hunters were 'unholy' or something ridiculous like that. 

To make matters worse, when Kyelaeron tried to break the silence by asking the ner was he enjoying the Games so far, the ner responded by going through every year in history a member of his glorious House almost won. 

'My cousin made it to the _final_ of his Games. My family say I am much like him. With the blessings of the Valar I will get as far as he...well a little further. I shall win. I am the best at swordplay you see, best out of all the warriors of the mighty Lord Tulkas.' 

_Well aren't you so special and humble?_ Kyelaeron has to admit his patience was treading a fine line. 

'That is nice but should we not focus on the task at hand?' _Your family history is not going to get us through this trial._

'Indeed. With the blessings of Manwë and Varda we shall prevail. But I must remind you, for a lower class ner such as yourself, it is only proper for you to address me by my title. I am Lord Malta to you.' 

Kyelaeron cursed his tied hands. This ner was asking for it. He did not wish to ever use his title but perhaps...perhaps he would need to. 

It was the only way this arrogant fool would trust a word from his mouth, or do anything Kyelaeron suggested. Kyelaeron did not trust this Vanya to get him through the trial, in fact he would not be surprised if mid-trial his partner began praying to the Valar for aid. 

_If Anya finds out I used my title she will never let me live it down...Damn it! It is the only way this idiot will listen!_

Kyelaeron sighed. 'What makes you think I am lower class?' 

'You are...are you not.?' 

'I am as much a Lord as you. My father fought in the final of the Games also. But enough of our family histories! Every other competitor is thinking of ways to escape our ropes and blindfolds! Have any ideas?' 

'I do not believe you are a Lord. What is your father’s name? Where is your family from?' Kyelaeron used every piece of restraint in his body to prevent himself from exploding in rage and panic. 

However, a voice in his head was his salvation. _It sounds like you need some help otorno..._

_Anya! Thank Eru. My partner is an absolute idiot! If you happen to have figured out a way to escape... I could really use a favour at the moment..._

_Raise your eyebrows..._

_What?_

_Just do it_ Aranya insisted. 

Kyelaeron complied and felt the blindfold slide a little down his face. _Thank you Anya! You have saved my Games!_

_Thank my partner. Keep your mind open in the maze. I might need help from you also..._

_Of course._

_Enjoy your conversation with another of your status, my Lord_

_You heard that?_ Kyelaeron winced. 

_We are closer than you think._

_Ai Valar give me strength!_

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs 

Once the arena was complete. Tanwë turned to the competitors once again. 

'LET THE FIRST ARÁTO TRIAL BEGIN!!!' 

SSssSSsSSSSSsSSSSssSSSss 

Translations: 

Nandor- Silvan 

Lindë- Song 

Malta- Golden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *If you wish to avoid the explicit scene, skip from 'All Tyelkormo and Írissë could do was laugh' to the next set of 'SsSSsSssSSss...'
> 
> Sorry for a bit of a cliff at the end, but I think I left enough interesting things in the maze and plot to keep ye all imagining until the next chapter. 
> 
> AHH Tanwë is onto Siofra's secret. I imagine she figures Siofra is indeed Tyelko's daughter, but who can say if she knows Írissë is the mother? 
> 
> Siofra be like 'My parents are completely innocent and had nothing to do with the kinslaying...' House of Finwë in Mandos looking around whistling and pretending they didn't hear anything. 
> 
> I am sorry if it was kinda indulgent but I had to add the thing about Glorfindel leaving his hair down for the final. 
> 
> Typical Oromë, 'educating Siofra', more like running around in the trees. 
> 
> Little Siofra be keeping up the family's reputation; 'House of Fëanor, risking their lives for jewellery since Y.T.' 
> 
> I cannot take credit for inventing the 'move' 'Manwë and Ingwë'. I got inspiration from the story _'Five things Celegorm fixed for Celebrimbor and the one thing he couldn't'_ , by _Urloth(CollyWobbleKiwi)_ on AO3. 
> 
> Good parenting with Tyelko and Írissë: when an awkward situation arises send the child off to a Vala to deal with it and then have sex. 
> 
> It also may seem a little far fetched to have Tyelko envisioning Maeglin when firstly; Maeglin's birth is hundreds of years away and secondly; Maeglin is not even his son. I like to imagine that Tyelko inherited some of Nerdanel's gift of foresight and visions and since he wished for more children, he was subconsciously imagining what his and Írissë's future would hold. Of course, the future he saw was Írissë's and, if I am honest, made me want to cry (As did the little Maedhros reference). 
> 
> I love Vána so much. Shes just there absolutely dying with laughter at Oromë's expense. Totally ignores the thousands of people around her. 
> 
> A big turn in Anairë's character. Things are looking positive. 
> 
> I also thought Anairë and Nerdanel's mini bitch fight was hilarious. Eärwen is so sweet and Findis is like the grand architect of whatever you would call that little 'get together'. 
> 
> And of course the star of the show, the moment we've been waiting for...HUAN BOYYY! I am following the storyline that Huan died helping Beren and Luthien. He went to the Halls because he is no ordinary dog OFC! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter and see you all soon for the twists and turns of the maze! 
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	12. The Language of Trees and Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyelkormo has a surprise for Írissë. Elena faces the demons of her past. And of course... the maze proves a challenge for our two favourite competitors!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Back. This is a VERY LONG chapter! The first part is set in the Years of the Trees, before we catch up with the ongoings of the first Aráto Trial. There will be angst, but for the most part this chapter will be fun and _competitive!_

_Oromë's Woods, Y.T..._

Two steeds, and a hound, skidded to a halt in the early hours of the afternoon. The hound, not tired in the slightest, bounded off through the woods. The riders, a little exhausted from days of hard riding with little to no rest, took a breath. 

The encampment of the hunters was practically deserted, Oromë's followers all out and about for the day. A few lingered however, and warmly greeted the two. 

One of the welcomes came from Kandāra. 'She is going to be over the moon with this surprise. All I have heard for the last week is 'Atto and Ammë will be here in two months...how long is two months Kandāra? Will I be old enough to drink more than just one mouthful from Atto's hip flask in two months?' Her face will light up when she sees you here early!' 

Tyelkormo smiled 'Politics is driving us both mad in Tirion. I swear Atar and Nolofinwë have never been so close to murdering each other! It is...tense to say the least. Our siblings are even involved at this stage, eying the two of us as traitors for so much as talking! We had to get out. ' 

'I heard unbelievable rumors...' Kandāra began. 

'I assure you all of them are most likely true.' Írissë sighed, raking her hair in exasperation . 'It is...madness... Atar and Fëanáro simply have nothing in common to agree on, thus widening the rift.' 

Kandāra shook her head. 'I can think of something they share, in this very woods...' 

'If only we could reveal the grandchild they have in common...' Tyelkormo muttered, frustrated with the world. 

Írissë eyed Tyelko with pity, while silently reiterating all the reasons why they could not be impetuous and reveal Siofra to the outside world. 

'To change the subject from such infuriating matters, Tyelko, what did Kandāra say about Aranya drinking from your mirúvorë flask?' Írissë, as always, did not miss a trick. She eyed Tyelkormo sternly, arms folding across her chest. Tyelko was reminded of Anairë, though he would never have the courage to tell Írissë such. The glare she gave took him back to the terrible days of etiquette lessons with his brothers. 

He shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting to Kandāra, who looked guiltily at him, mouthing an apology. 'I.. did not give her...mirúvorë... _ever!'_ He lied. 

Írissë's gaze did not falter. Tyelkormo broke. 

He threw his palms in the air. 'Fine! I may have given her a mouthful or two once or twice! Just to help her sleep! I swear she is the most restless child I have ever seen, and that is including all of my brothers, and yours and... I was _tired!_ There I admit it! She is more outgoing than even me!' Tyelko passionately ranted excuses. 

Írissë continued staring for a moment, before breaking into a deviant smile. 'I myself find that wine gets her to sleep much faster than mirúvorë', was all she had to say. 

Tyelkormo's eyes widened in realisation...'You mean...? You made me confess when _you_ Melda are just as...' 

'I just wanted to hear the mighty Turcafinwë admit he has finally met his match.' Írissë's smile turned into a smirk of triumph. Kandāra laughed. 

'HMMPHH' It was Tyelkormo's turn to cross his arms and glare. 

Írissë however, had the solution to lightening Tyelko's mood. 'Kandāra, where is our Aranya now?' 

Tyelkormo's mood left as soon as it came. 

Kandāra pointed them in the right direction. 'She is in the trees...well...actually Írissë I will let Tyelkormo surprise you with what she is doing. 

Írissë raised an eyebrow but did not question what _sort_ of surprise the elder nís had brought up. The couple set off through the forest. 

The peaceful atmosphere was one they had missed. Nowadays, peace, in all forms, was difficult to achieve in Tirion. 

Suddenly, Írissë laughed, melodic and hearty all at once. 

'What is it Melda?' Her laugh had Tyelko subconsciously smiling. 

'Nothing...it's just... no its nothing!' Írissë managed to blurt out in-between giggles. Tyelko got the feeling she was laughing at his expense. 

'Out with it!' He ordered. He had not done anything! _What is so hilariously funny?_

'It is just that...fatherhood...-' Írissë's laughter got even louder- if that was possible. 

_'Yes?'_ Tyelko ushered her to continue, slightly worried by the fact Írissë was laughing so much at nothing. Had the family drama driven her mad? 

-...fatherhood, Tyelko...has made you _soft!'_

Tyelkormo laughed this time, at the sheer absurdness of Írissë's words. _Me? Soft?...NEVER!_

'Okay Írissë I think perhaps we should make a side trip to Lady Estë to get your head examined! I am NOT soft! Children run away from me in Tirion!' Tyelkormo exaggerated a little but was satisfied he had made his point. 

Írissë smiled too sweetly. 'Well I wouldn't say that... I mean consider last week! 

'Look if you are bringing up the Itarillë business again then I must remind you that I have already been severely reprimanded by both your family and mine for suspected treachery and conspiracy in this trying time of 'family war!' That _and_ my ego has been completely and utterly ruined! So please do not bring it up!' Tyelko pleaded Írissë to let it go. She would do no such thing. 

Your 'ego' of a 'tough, hard-core ner', was destroyed because you were too _soft_ to decline Itarillë's invitation to her 'dolly tea party!' Even Findekáno is able to say no to such invitations, especially when they involve braiding _flowers_ into ones hair!' Írissë teased relentlessly. 

'My hair did not look half as ridiculous as Findékáno's does on a daily basis! Honestly, the amount of gold he braids in! It is as though he wishes he were born a Vanya! 

'Do not try to change the subject and do not question my big brother's _quirky_ style! Írissë defended her eldest hanno. 'Although, to tell you the truth, Finno cannot braid hair to save his life! Someone obviously does it for him... but I have no idea _who.'_

'WHAT SORT OF NER CANNOT BRAID HIS OWN HAIR?! Maitimo had us all taught before we could even walk! Typical Palace princes, not a clue how to do anything on their own!' 

Írissë gave Tyelko a pointed look which told him to _stop insulting Finno in an effort to change the subject._

He dared not defy Írissë twice in a row. 'I am just stating facts. I do not mind Finno really. I mean it Írissë do not give me that look! Especially when you compare him to Turukáno! Now _him_ I can't stand. He said I was _alienating_ his daughter! _Alienating!_ I did not even know what that meant at the time! And to make it worse, when Atar found out about the incident he said I had been _alienated_ by a little girl!' 

Needless to say, Tyelkormo had not realised how much trouble a pretend tea-party with his law-niece/first cousin once removed would cause at the time. 

'Well Fëanáro was right on that account. You have been alienated by a little girl, but not Itarillë.' Írissë smirked. 

Although Tyelko knew he was proving Írissë right, proving he was indeed softened by a certain little someone, Tyelko could not help beaming at the small reference to his daughter. 

'I will admit that I am soft for _her.'_

'And any other elfling that graces the face of Aman.' 

'Hmmmph' 

'If it is any consolation, I have a soft spot for her too, Tyelko.' 

'I know.' 

Compatible silence ensued for a brief moment. 

'So what is this 'surprise' Kandāra speaks of?' Írissë could only hide her curiosity for so long. 

Tyelkormo smirked. 'You will see Melda, all in good time.' 

'If it is another tattoo then I will take one for my house and kill you here!' Írissë was slightly concerned, Tyelko had a reputation of 'surprising' her with things she did not find half as amusing as he. 

Tyelko laughed. 'I promise it is not a tattoo and that you will like this surprise.' 

The two continued their walk, The birds sang all around them. Tyelko mimicked their tune, conversing with them in a way Írissë could never comprehend, but also adored. 'Birds are different to other animals', he had once told her. 'It is impossible to use osanwë with them, as I usually do when conversing. Instead, one must mimic the exact voice of the bird species with whom they are conversing- there are thousands to learn!' 

Apparently such a feat had taken Tyelko years to achieve. 

Írissë found herself washed over with emotion, admiration, for the ner she loved. Whenever she imagined Tyelko, she imagined the image before her, him, in a blissful forest, wild and free and talking to birds and animals in the unique way only he could. He was special in so many ways, she wondered how others could not see it so clearly. 

But now was Aranya time, they would have each other now and in Tirion. She could admire him later. Clearing her throat, she grabbed Tyelko's attention, who was whistling a response to a bird which sounded _lively_ to say the least. 

Tyelko however, ushered her to stay silent, much to her annoyance. _Just listen Melda... hang on...I will translate what this particular bird is saying!_

Írissë rolled her eyes but complied. _Does this have anything to do with Anya or the surprise...?_

_Perhaps..._ Was all Tyelko had time to quickly utter, before he was calling again to the bird. 

He received another boisterous response. He smirked. _Melda,_ he began, the bird just said, _'Hullo, what is your name? Your voice sounds different to the others?_

Írissë crinkled her brow _...Are birds usually so overly friendly?_

Tyelko looked smug. _..No...this one is special..._ was all he said before creating another exaggerated bird call she had never heard. 

He translated for Írissë using osanwë again. _'Hang on...you are not a wren!...I have never heard a bird like you before! Wait a minute, I need to figure out your voice... Say something again.'_

Tyelkormo hooted again. He made a strange 'crex crex' noise 

He quickly receited the words he received from the bird back to Írissë. She said _'A...corncrake? Well I have never seen one of you before! I have the hang of your language now! What is your name Mister Corncrake?'_

Írissë had a sneaking suspicion of the identity of the 'bird', but knew that was impossible...Aranya could not speak to animals! This bird reminded her of her daughter however, be it personality or bubbliness or the funny and excited articulation. 

Tyelko also translated his response to Írissë. _'My name is...Desirable Strength...what is yours?'_

Írissë shook her head at his made up epessë. _Ever the humble ner Tyelko_

_You do realise half of that name is yours?_

_Strength? Why thank you Meldo_

_No! Írissë means 'DESIRABLE' and Turcafinwë means 'STRONG!'_

_So you are implying I am not strong...?_

_No...no I mean...I..._

_It's alright, I only tease, but I think a name that would suit your 'alter ego bird' better would be 'Desirable IMPATIENCE.'_

_Hmmph._

_Would you stop with that? It drives me and your mother mad!_

_I hardly ever say 'hmmph', I dont know what you're talking about!_

Their banter was cut short with another respose from the 'bird'. _'You have two names! Just like me! I have one name from my Atar and one name from my Ammë, well everyone does, every elf that is, I did not know birds did that though! The robins won't even tell me one of their names!'_

Írissë raised an eyebrow at this response. The speaker was clearly an elf. Were her suspicions true? Was it Anya...? If so, then how had she learned so much, so fast? Was this the 'surprise?' 

Tyelko smiled at Írissë's reaction, before smugly replying _'And which name do you prefer princess? The one your Atar gave you or the one your Ammë gave you?'_

Tyelko's reply told Írissë all she needed to know. This was Anya! Anya had the same gift as Tyelko! Her chest swelled with pride. She shook her head at Tyelko's antics, while praying her daughter would favour the name 'Aranya', if only to knock Tyelkormo's dangerous level of cockiness Anya _did not_ need to inherit. 

Tyelko's translating voice sounded in her head. _'Ahhhh I don't know! My Atar called me Siofra and my Ammë called me Aranya. They are both nice names!'_

Tyelko whistled a response and refused to translate. Írissë glared until he answered sheepishly. _I said I would choose 'Shining Huntress' over 'Free' anytime._

He received a none-too-gentle shove in the ribs. 

A beautiful giggle sounded from an oak a few feet from them, their daughter blowing her cover without even realising. 

A whistled response followed the giggle. Tyelko again refused to translate. The slight fall of his smirk indicated to Írissë that the mother name may have 'won' this little contest of sorts. 

_What did she say Tyelko...?_ Írissë echoed far too sweetly. Tyelko threw her a look she could only describe as 'hmmph'. 

_She said something along the lines of 'Shining Huntress is nice, but if you are Free it is better, because you are free to be a Shining huntress OR anything else you wish.’_

Írissë could not help but gloat _That's my girl Aranya!_

Tyelko made more incomprehensible sounds, translating to _'I would be more careful with what you say to the birds, baby, you never know when Atto is going to be listening!'_

Siofra Aranya fell out of her tree. 

Tyelko and Írissë ran to break her fall. She managed to catch herself however, dangling upside down and holding on by her feet, wrapped securely around the branch. 

'ATTO! AMMË! Is it two months already?!' 

Her excitement could not be understated. 

Tyelko carefully lowered Siofra to the ground, while Írissë explained 'Not quite, Anya, we are here early, for even more time with you!' 

The two parents in turn were nearly floored by the ferocity of the hugs assaulted onto them. 

'AMMË! I can talk to the birds! And all sorts of animals! Atto helped me, but now I can figure it out on my own mostly, though I have never heard a corncrake before today, even though it was actually Atto and I didn't know.' She rambled on as any child would, except Aranya had the capacity to talk ten times faster. 

'That is AMAZING onya! I am so proud! Írissë kissed and hugged her daughter again. It had been over a year since she had seen her, the longest they had ever been apart. Guilt rose within her. She vowed to never leave Aranya for so long again. 

'Melda, did you know Anya is _already_ fluent in the language of _every_ creature. She did not have to learn the voices of each bird as I had! Even though she never heard a corncrake, within minutes, she had picked up the tongue and was able to converse with me.' 

The look of pride on his face was one of the greatest Írissë had ever seen on Tyelko, and this was the mighty Turcafinwë, Aráto champion, son of Fëanáro, Noldo Prince and by no means humble. 

'Atar where can I find a real Corncrake? What do they look like?' Aranya did not have time for praise, she was a Noldo after all and desired knowledge. 

'You will not find any in these woods, Siofra. They are extremely rare, even I have not seen one! They are many in Endorë. Oromë taught me their tongue in my youth. Apparently they are brown and dwell in shallow boglands, a good way to tell whether or not a marsh is passable.' 

Tyelko had no problem spilling his wealth of knowledge. Írissë almost felt bad for changing the subject. _Almost._ 'So, Anya can you repeat again which of your names is your favourite? We all know what you said-...' 

'... _Siofra_ said she liked the _idea_ of freedom more than hunting, because hunting is included in being free That hardly suffices as an answer-...' 

'...I think _Aranya_ has proven her gift with language enough to be able to compose her own response, don't you? No need to put words in her mouth-...' 

'...I think _Siofra_ introduces herself with her father name more. I hear no elflings call her by her mother-...' 

'... _Aranya_ saves her mother name only for those she loves most!' 

Both turned to face their torn daughter, to receive her verdict. 'Ahh I think that...Ahhh well... 

'Go on baby.' 

'Yes Ammë won't mind the fact you like your father name bett-...OWW Íris... _Ammë!_... What was that for?!' 

'I think I like them both equally and I am just going to go now...'Siofra began to back away. The two shook their heads, where did she think she was going? 

Suddenly, Huan burst through the foliage and within seconds was carrying Siofra Aranya away from the question she did not want to answer. 

She giggled. 'Huan says I do not have to answer that question if I do not want to!' 

Huan ran off, their daughter laughing on his back, leaving the parents speechless. 

_Tyelko, since when has she the ability to summon Huan in such a way? He was the other side of the woods not long ago!_

_Since...today? I did not know she could do that! It took me years!_

Huan muttered something lowly to Tyelko, and Írissë could not believe it, but she _understood._

_'For what it is worth...'_ Huan's voice was deep ' _...Personally I always preferred the name 'Aranya'._

The look on Tyelko's face was victory enough for Írissë 

'Melda, would you mind wiping that smirk from your face and taking Huan's knife out of my back please?' 

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

_Woodlands, near the House of Tulkas, Y.T..._

She walked in the beautiful silver light of Telperion. How she adored this time. The forest lit up, illuminated with the soft sheen, not as bright as Laurelin, but more beautiful in her eyes...silver...oh how she loved the colour silver! 

She knew if Vayelya were here she would either tease her to death, or promptly leave to vomit, but she was not and thus, Elenā had time to comptemplate all the _silver_ things she loved... his armour, his flute...his _eyes..._

She sat by a waterfall and was at peace with the sound of the water as it ran to the sea. The song of the sea...The water and melody was silver to her. 

She was not waiting long before he appeared. Still dressed in his armour from training, looking every bit the Lord he was. She ran into his arms. 

'Melda' he whispered, holding her tight. They had been apart far too long this time. He had spent the last few months training with Lord Tulkas. She took time away from the city and happily dwelt in the woods, reconnecting with the trees, with her heritage. They arranged little rendezvous, cherishing the privacy the woods alone could bring, away from the eyes of the city. 

'Meldo' she replied, with as much affection as he. 'How I missed you'. 

'And I you.' He smiled, before picking her up and twirling her in the air. To outside eyes their movement would have looked too perfect to be spontaneous, but long years practicing lifts together had drilled a natural reaction of elegance in them both. She laughed. 

They kissed for a little too long before sitting and chatting, happy with each other's company. 

'So what news from the mighty warriors and their abs of steel?!' Elenā's voice was sarcastic. The last time she had seen him, her Meldo brought news of a friendly plank competition that had been incorporated into the warriors' training. Her Meldo had won, however since Elenā was ten times better at the plank than said Meldo, she had no qualms over boasting about how she was better at this exercise than _all_ the warriors combined. 

He rolled his eyes. 'Just because you have an insane ability to hold that awful position for over two hours, does not mean that the rest of us are weak! We just have...normal, strong abs, instead of unnaturally strong ones! And if you want to tease anyone, you should tease Laurë, for coming _last_ in that little contest!' 

'As if you and your sister have not teased him enough already.' 

'Vayelya?' He quirked an eyebrow. _Ooh_ she smirked _he is suspicious!_

'Am I seeing some over-protectiveness here? Your sister is a grown nís Meldo!' 

'She will always be my little sister and I do not know how I feel about my otorno having feelings for her!' He frowned. Elenā wouldn't dare say it but he looked adorable. _If only you knew about the many neri your little nésa has courted and left broken hearted!_

'Are you sure it is not merely a friendship, stricken up as a result of the common experience and awkwardness they share from being a third wheel with us two? I would know if Vayelya felt anything major for Laurë, she could never hide much from me for long.' 

'Perhaps.' He sighed. 'You are right. Vayelya is grown now, as much as I hate to admit it. And I suppose if she were to fall for someone, Laurë would not be the worst candidate.' 

'I suppose he isn't _that_ bad.' She teased, before continuing more seriously. 'She is young and free and the best thing for a good big brother like yourself and an osellë like me to do is leave her be, to choose her own path, and, as long as she is happy, support her wishes. You cannot choose her future for her, even if you may dislike the path she is about to tread. 

Elenā did not mean to draw up a comparison to her own relationship, but her words seemed to remind her Love of the support he and Elenā did not receive from the remainder of his House, most notably his father. 

'I am sorry.' He closed his eyes, 'I wish they could let go of their prejudice and see what a beautiful person you are, inside and out.' 

She clasped his hand and kissed it gently. 'All I care for is your love. Let them say and think whatever and treat me however they wish, I do not care, I have you. Do not say you are sorry Meldo, there is nothing to forgive. I have everything I ever wanted.' 

He nodded and subconsciously reached for his flute. He played an enchanting tune. which suited the mood of their conversation. Slow tempo, soft melody, both joy and sorrow and love emerging from the silver notes. She had come to realise music was his way of releasing emotions. 

By the time he had finished the trees were lightly swaying, humming the melody back to Elenā. She sang to them silently, the way she had learned as a little girl, back in Endor, before...she shuddered, she did not wish to think of it. 

'Melda?' He noticed, of course he did. He was too sharp and too caring not to notice. 'You feel... cold...' 

'I am fine... just...the trees. I...got a flashback of my first life.' She pressed a hand to her forehead. It would pass. 

His eyes widened. 'You have never...mentioned that before. Are you alright. Talk to me Elenā.' 

She did not know why her trauma revisited now, with a strength she had never experienced since her re-embodiment. However, she soon found herself shuddering all over, trembling in his arms. He rubbed soothing circles into her back and, to his credit, almost hid the panic she could feel rising in his chest. 

Panic caused tears to stream down her cheeks. She needed this feeling to stop, she was overcome with primitive fear, the illogical fear of a child...the child she was... before... 

She hugged her knees and rocked back and forth, her Meldo kept his grasp on her, supporting her. She felt him send waves of calm through their bond, she heard his soothing voice in her fëa. 

Hours passed. He continued soothing her soul. He did not demand she divulge her past, but she suddenly felt the urge to. 

'As you know...I...I was born in Endor...' her voice faltered a little, but she continued '...born into an Avarin tribe. We dwelt in the forest, and were one with the trees. We could converse with them, like the Nandor, and we had a love for the earth and stars that I am afraid does not quite exist here in Aman. The stars were our hope in the darkness, the earth was our home, the trees were our survival. We built our homes in them and they helped us, warned us of attacks. They were _allies._ It is difficult for someone native to Aman to understand how vital the trees were to us. They made the difference between _life_ and _death._ Those times were dark, not due to the absence of the Two Trees, they were dark because you were living constantly in fear, knowing that everything you had could be taken away in an instant- your home, your family, your loved ones. And nothing was as dark as those creatures of evil; orcs, goblins, vampires...worse. They were capable of _anything._ Killing, torture, rape- sometimes all three at once. Neri, níssi and children all suffered. You name it, it came natural to them. 

She paused for a second, conscious of the shock and anger she could feel emanating from her Meldo. She understood how he felt. How anyone could do such to not only innocents, but _children,_ was beyond comprehension of one raised in peace and bliss all their lives. And she did not grudge him, or anyone for that bliss, her people chose to remain behind, but at the same time she felt as though some elves of Aman were not aware of how lucky they were, to go to bed at night and know their family would all still be alive in the morning. Some moaned about the control the Valar had in this land, but never thought of the cost that came with living without the Valar's protection. Freedom came at a price. 

Elenā continued her tale. 'But we were happy, despite it all. We loved our home and our forest, and were more than willing to lay down our lives in defense of it. Ada and Nana- that is, my Atar and Ammë _loved_ dancing in the times of peace. I suppose that is partially why I love it so. I had three older siblings, the two eldest were of age, a sister and a brother, they were both accomplished warriors. Then came my other sister, two decades older than me. We were very close. Finally there was the baby, a little boy. The last time I saw him he was still latched onto Ammë's breast.' 

Lost in memory, she did not want to move on to the tragic part. But she knew she needed to. She had kept her past locked up for so long just the slight trigger of the trees had caused her to break. Who better to tell than her true Love? Her _new_ family. 

'And then what happened?' She could hear the reluctance in his voice, but he knew she needed to tell it. 

'I was just over three decades. My closest sister and I decided we would sneak away to play in a glade that was forbidden to us. We thought it was beautiful, it was, but it was also deadly. The trees warned us, but we did not listen. It was a place which was attacked often, hence why it was forbidden. We did not know any better. We were ambushed by orqui. My sister managed to slip away to raise the alarm. I was not so lucky. By the time the people of the tribe reached me and slew the orqui, it was too late. 

Her breath hitched. 'Every bone in my body had been broken. I remember the shock... I did not know what was happening to me.. I could not breathe. My body was a mangled mess. My elder brother reached me first, I think he was shocked to see me alive. His eyes and the sorrow and anger in them were the last thing I saw. One by one I heard each of my family scream. Then everything went dark, and my fëa departed for Lord Námos halls.' 

Her Meldo's fists were clenched. He retched. He held her close again and she felt him shake with anger. She broke down into sobs. They embraced. Her pain was his and, after a time, her pain was halved. She composed herself. 

'I do not remember much from the Halls. I was so young, and did not dwell there long. Lone elflings most of the time are taken in by a certain Vala, as an apprentice. As you can guess, Nessa raised me. She taught me dance, which I already had a flare to. She also was at peace with the trees like me, sometimes she took me with her when she visited her brother. I met some fellow Avari. When I was old enough, I departed for Tirion, to make a life of my own. Nessa did not mind, she said I was free to do as I wished and that I would be welcome back with open arms. A few months later I ran into Vayelya and I think you know the rest.' 

She sighed in frustration. 'But if I had just listened to the damn trees! My carelessness ruined my family's lives! Imagine having to deal with losing a child in such a way, all of them, watching me die! Imagine the guilt my sister feels, the anger of the elder siblings, the heartbreak of my parents, the atmosphere of sorrow my baby brother would have to grow up in! It is all my fault..I... 

'Melda! It is NOT your fault. You were but a child! Children are not meant to comprehend danger. Valar the amount of idiotic and dangerous things Laurë and I got up to in our youth, far less innocent than playing in a place you were told not to go! The difference is you were living in a war torn land! How difficult to grow up in such a place! The only one at blame here is the enemy, and I swear if ever I set foot on Endor I will make them _pay_ for what they did to you!' 

'And if I ever set foot in Endor again I would find my family and apologise...but alas, some things will never come to pass.' Elenā could not help but feel angry with the world. 

He cried, flinging his hands in the air. 'You have nothing to apologise for Melda! Why would you say such a thing!' 

Elenā took a deep breath, and braced herself to reveal her deepest emotion. 'I...cannot help but feel guilty sometimes. Here I am, in bliss, living a life of peace and dreams. Valar knows what my family are going through, what evils they fight everyday. To listen to the trees is the first thing an Avarin child is taught from their father and mother! I...' a sob escaped her lips ...'I do not even remember their names!' 

He consoled her. 'They probably pray everyday for your happiness. Do not be ashamed Elenā, you did not choose your fate.' 

She finally accepted his words of comfort. 'True, I did not. It was a tragic ambush. There was nothing I could have done. Yet, in spite of my guilt, I cannot help but feel glad that I did die. Because if I didn't I would never have met you! Or Vayeyla! And I certainly would not be a professional dancer! More like a healer or scout! And that makes me feel even more guilt! I am being selfish!' 

She turned away, in shame. He cupped her cheek towards him. He stared into her eyes, a firm, determined expression on his face. 'Elenā, you grew up in a land filled with darkness! You were separated from your birth family before you fully knew them! You were brutally murdered before you could even reach your father's hip! You served your time in Halls! And now that you are reborn, and have found passion in dance, peace, an osellë, and a new family,- you feel _guilty!?_ Melda you have suffered enough! Do not be ashamed of feeling _happy,_ after all you have endured.' 

He smirked. 'And it is alright to fall for an extremely handsome musician and brave warrior, despite his pathetic plank abilities!' 

Elenā could help but laugh. 'I suppose he is not the _worst_ ner in the world!' 

It felt like a burden had been lifted from her chest. He yet again had taken away the demons of her past. For the first time, she felt as though she _deserved_ the happiness she had worked so hard for. _Deserved_ the peace she had suffered for. _Deserved_ the love he gave. She should not beat herself up because she _enjoyed_ her new home that was Aman. 

She became her usual strong independent self again. Sharing her past had healed a hurt and trauma buried so deep within her that she did not know it existed. 

He had composed himself for her sake, her Meldo was no stranger to loss, she knew his mother's passing left a scar on his heart that would never fully heal, but a Tirion born ner in the Years of the Trees would never have imagined such horror possible, even for the enemy. They lived in ignorant bliss. Her story had shook him out of it. 

Still, she felt the need to change the dark conversation. She had spread enough angst tonight. She was healed and now she could move on. Be strong. 

'Can you hear the music of the trees?' She asked him. His crinkled brow and slight cock of his head told her he tried, but he shook his head. 

'I cannot. I have tried before, I knew they meant a great deal to you, but no, I hear nothing.' 

'I doubt any of the Quendi can. And bless, you tried especially for me?' Bless him indeed, he was so sweet in the most humble way possible. 

He flashed her a brilliant smile. 'I am afraid you will have to find another ner to court if you wish for tree talking to be a regular occurrence on scandalous rendezvous such as these.' 

She played along. 'You almost had it all Meldo- music, dance, good looks, manners. What a pity you failed in both the plank and tree fields!' 

He laughed. So melodic. So _silver._

'How will my heart take such a parting? I will plank every day just to win your favour again oh bright shining _Star_ ' He exclaimed dramatically. 

Elenā cheekily responded 'You flatter me, you _strong willed_ ner! Well, I suppose I might keep you despite your Noldor-ness. I will just have to make sure our children are taught the language of the trees from the moment they are born.' She smiled smugly when it became clear her words had the effect she intended. 

He looked stunned for a moment. _'Ch..child..ren..?'_ It took every piece of restraint within her not to drop her act of seduction and laugh at his stupefied expression. 

'You love me forever, do you not?' she entrapped him with words. 

'Of course.' He composed himself enough to reply steadily. 

Her eyes turned flirtatious. 'Well I would say that children are inevitable in such a loving relationship, wouldn't you.' 

He smirked, begging to comprehend just what she was up to. 'I suppose they are.' 

He turned serious then 'So you are saying that, out of all the neri in the world... you would wish for _me_ to father your children?' 

He said it with such disbelief and uncertainty that she found herself whispering discreetly 'Only you' before continuing the act. 'Meldo, my point is that if we did inevitably beget a child, I would have to teach them to embrace their Avarin side. So of course I would teach them how to speak to the trees.' 

'I see.' He replied smoothly, before deviantly raising an eyebrow. 'But you do realise Melda, in order to beget that child, _marriage_ , official or otherwise, would have to occur.' 

Elenā casually stood, pulling up her skirts, exposing her thighs, tempting him to go all the way here and now. 'I have no qualms about the _'otherwise'_ route.' Noldo ceremony marriage customs did not mean as much to her as they did to him, so she liked to tease in such a way. He never fell for it, he was a ner of honour if anything. 

She saw him battle internally, before taking a deep breath. She had him caught off guard. Perhaps tonight he would give in to the desire she tempted him with. 

Little did Elenā know that, in reality, _she_ was the one about to be caught off guard. 

He stood and faced her, leaning in, close enough to touch, but not touching. He whispered into her neck 'But I can do one better than _'otherwise' ._

Elenā was very grateful for the tree which prevented her from falling over in shock as her Meldo reached into his shirt. For a moment she thought he was taking it off, but no... not quite. 

He pulled out an intricate silver ring and spoke, voice full of mirth for having _bested_ her in this teasing game. 

'You have no idea how many years I have been carrying Ammë's ring around, waiting for the opportune moment. No better moment than one I have stunned you so! And...to hear you say... _only me...'_

Elenā, eyes wide, somehow retained enough composure to reach for her concealed chain, on which hung a ring she intended for him. She pulled it out also. His eyes lit up, when he saw she was just as prepared for this moment as he. 

His breath hitched. 

'Elenā, will you marry me?' 

sSSSssssSSSSSss 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

The blindfolds were almost off Siofra and Lindë immediately. They untied the knots quickest of all the competitors, Lindë had a knack with knots, due to much sailing experience. 

The pair stood, stepping out of their ropes and turning to face each other. 

Lindë screamed. 

Siofra was at a loss as to what provoked such a reaction. Perhaps this was some trick of the Games? Or was it nerves? Or had Lindë hurt herself? 

Not many seemed to have noticed, the stadium was loud with shouts and the other competitors were too busy competing. 

'Lindë? What is wrong?' Siofra was a little panicked to say the least. Now was not the time for unnecessary stalls! The Telerin nís proceeded to cover her face with her hands and crouch down. 

'Lindë?!', Siofra crouched down to her partner's level and gently nudged her shoulder. 'We have to go!' She nodded toward the maze. A few had already entered. 

Thankfully, Lindë seemed to wake up on hearing Siofra's gentle-but-pleading voice. She sprung up. 'I am sorry...you... _reminded_ me of someone...just a flashback...sorry c'mon let's go! 

Siofra did not heed her words, she was merely relieved her partner had woken from her 'trance.' 

The two níssi raced towards the maze. The trees moved before them, creating a new path just for the two, ensuring a different trial and route for each pairing of hunter and warrior. 

They ran through the path before skidding to a halt at a wide, deep pool of water. What appeared to be a smooth stone wall stood in the middle of the flood, stretching upwards and blocking the níssi's view of the sky. Their path was also blocked, and both knew there had been no alternative routes behind them. 

'Can you swim?' Siofra asked Lindë, before slapping herself in the forehead. 'That was a silly question, sorry.' 

Lindë laughed. 'Of course! Can you?' 

'Well I would say I am a brilliant swimmer, but I have never met a Teleri, so I will not dig myself a watery grave!' 

Lindë smirked at Siofra's subtle boasting. 'I am guessing we have to go under. Hold your breath! Ready?' 

'Wait! What about your armour!? Won't you sink?!' Siofra realised at the last minute. 

Lindë flicked her silvery hair proudy. 'Telerin armour has its advantages...' was all she gave away. 'Ready?' 

They both dived into the deep water. It was cold as ice. Siofra almost gasped, but she had learned in her youth that was _not_ a good idea when one was submerged in water. 

A few minutes later the two emerged...on the _same_ side. 

'There is _NO_ way through! We scaled every inch of that damned wall _twice!'_ Siofra's temper was beginning to get the better of her. 

'We did.' replied Lindë. She fell onto her honkers and stared at the water with unseeing eyes, lost in thought. 'There must be another way...' She whispered, to herself if anyone. 

Siofra began pacing back and forth, no solutions coming to mind. She shook her fist in the rough direction she recalled Ulmo sitting. _'Curse_ you Ulmo for this stupid, impassable-... 

_'...Siofra!_ Use your energy in thinking up solutions, rather than cursing my _favourite,_ Vala.' Lindë said the last two words extra loudly and in the direction of Siofra's fist... _just in case..._

'Sorry' Siofra mumbled, albeit insincerely. She crouched down to Lindë's level. 'What are you doing?' 

'Listening' Lindë closed her eyes reaching her hand out, just above the water. 

'To what?' Siofra wondered if this is what strangers thought of herself when witnessing her talk to fish. 

'To the music of the water.' Lindë replied quietly. 

'But...' 

_'Ssshhhh'_

Siofra finally went silent, but indulged herself an almost silent 'hmmph'. 

Suddenly, Linda's eyes opened. 'Look!' she pointed at the water, where the slightest whirlpool had appeared, almost invisible, but there, when the water was left long enough to still. 

'YES LINDË! YOU ARE AMAZING!' Siofra dragged her partner into a fierce embrace the other was not quite ready for. 'Now tell me, what exactly does the whirlpool mean?' 

Lindë would have laughed at the funny antics of Siofra if it weren't for the pressure of time pulling her forward. 'It means we have to go _down,_ not forward.' 

'Down a sinkhole?' Siofra's voice took a worried tone. 

'Well...yes...but I am almost sure we will survive.' Lindë answered. 'Ready?' 

_I've dived into dangerous water before, with worse odds of survival_ Siofra muttered to herself. _'Here goes nothing.'_

Down the sinkhole they went. 

SSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

Kyelaeron was lucky. He always hid a small knife in a wristband he wore. His Ammë had taught him it was always a good idea to have a 'trick up his sleeve', if you like, just in case he found himself in a dangerous predicament weaponless. 

Ammë's wisdom was paying off. 

He freed himself from the ropes, only to find his partner, Malta, had not even got his blindfold off yet. Kyelaeron rolled his eyes, because he could- Malta could not see him. He then proceeded to free his partner. 

'Your welcome.' Kyelaeron muttered, as his partner grumpily stomped the pins and needles out of his feet. Kyelaeron noticed a piece of rope still attached to Malta's long, golden hair. He made to cut it out. 

'What in the name of Varda do you think you are doing?' Demanded Malta suddenly, in a commanding 'Lordly' voice. 

Kyelaeron raised his hands in peace. 'There is rope knotted into your hair. It is quite heavy and will slow you down. Let me cut it out.' 

From the expression on Malta's face, it was as though Kyelaeron had asked to cut out his heart. 

'WHAT?! NO NO _NO!_ MY HAIR HAS NEVER BEEN CUT AND THAT WILL NOT HAPPEN TODAY! MY FAMILY...-' 

IT IS THE ARÁTO GAMES! WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS! I AM NOT GOING TO MAKE YOU BALD, IT IS JUST A FEW LOCKS! Kyelaeron's patience was wearing thin. 

_'A FEW LOCKS?!_ NO..NO WAY... NEVER!' Malta ran his hands through his hair, as though he was defending it. 

Kyelaeron sighed. He needed to make this ner see the logic here. His hair would grow back! A few strands was definately not worth losing this trial, no matter how glossy and golden the Vanyar locks shone. He decided to go with a more calm approach. 

'Look, is a little snippet of hair worth elimination? Are you going to throw away your shot at victory and glory just like that? What would your family think? You know we can only partake in these Games once.' Kyelaeron argued gently. 

'I would have you know my family are renowned for our esteemed, golden locks. My cousin..-' 

'WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO DRAW UP FAMILY TREES! LOOK! HALF THE COMPETITORS HAVE ALREADY ENTERED THE MAZE!' Kyelaeron knew he should not have lashed out, but in his defense, what sort of competitor would start boasting before they had even began the trial properly? 

Malta proceeded to sulk like a scolded spoilt child, 'If you so much as touch my hair, I will refuse to compete and will sit here until the trial is over, and we will both be knocked out.' He crossed his arms and sat on the grass. 

'So you are saying your hair is more important than your pride? Because believe me partner, if you back out without even trying, you will be laughed at and mocked.' Kyelaeron tried manipulation tactics one final time. 

'My hair _is_ my pride' was the proud and infuriating response he received back. 

Kyelaeron raked a hand through his hair. 'Fine, we can leave the rope in. It will not slow us anymore than this.' 

Malta snorted 'Yes and with the weight of the rope I will be _bald_ by the time we reach the centre. _No way._ He shook his head. 

Kyelaeron punched the ground in anger. The last pairing, save them, disappeared into the maze. He wondered was there any hope in trying. Despair flooded his heart. He had wanted to do so well, make the hunters proud. And _Vayelya...Vayelya...Ai Valar if this is how I lose she will never let me forget it!_

'What would you have me do then?' Kyelaeron muttered, shoulders slumped, defeated. Malta paused for a moment, before replying 'There is only one thing _to_ do.' He proceeded to turn around and point to the intricately tangled hair and rope. 'You will have to gently _undo_ it.' 

'You _cannot_ be serious!' Kyelaeron punched the air this time. He was never very good with hair. His Ammë always did it for him, and when his mother left, Aranya took over. 

Malta's expression was deadly serious however. Kyelaeron found himself sorting a mess of golden hair and rough brown rope. 

He could _hear_ Vayelya laughing in the crowd. 

He was glad Aranya was not here to see this. 

A few minutes later, as the two _finally_ made their way into the maze, Malta spoke suddenly. 'You know...you remind me of someone.' 

Kyelaeron, running ahead, only had time to mutter 'Oh really.' 

'Yes'. Malta answered. 'My cousin, who was in the _final_ of the Games had an otor...-' 

'Malta, in the nicest way possible, can we talk about such things _after_ the trial?' Kyelaeron needed the Vanya to hurry up. His armour was already making it difficult for Malta to keep up with Kyelaeron's speedy pace, never mind unnecessary anecdotes. 

'Fair enough.' The Vanya shut up and finally did what he was told. 

Kyelaeron took a moment to ask Anya how she was doing. Perhaps she would be able to save them time by warning him of any obstacles they might face. _Anya... how is your trial?_

He was greeted with a string of curses. _Anya... what's wrong?_

_I fucking hate swallow holes! was all Anya said._

SsSssSssSsSSssSsSssSsSSsss 

The next obstacle Siofra and Lindë encountered was a vast stretch of marsh. Thorns lined the boundaries of the maze, ensuring no one could 'cheat' the bog. However, this time doubling back was an option. But it was clear as day the alternative path would delay them significantly. It went the exact direction the two had came from. 

'Oh no.' Lindë muttered as she tested the depth of the marsh with her sword. 'Not only does it have no bottom, the mud is so thick that swimming is not an option! We would exhaust ourselves, and then sink.' 

'The bog stretches as far as the eye can see. I hate to admit it, but it looks like we have no choice but to try the long way round.' Siofra sighed. 

The two ran off. They had covered but a few paces when Siofra suddenly skidded to a halt, head turning sharply in the direction of the bog again. 

'Siofra! Come on. If we run fast enough we may be just as quick as anyone going through the bog. Why do you stall?' 

'The bog is not deep' Siofra whispered distantly, eyes lost in memory. 

'Yes it is! I tested the depth.' Lindë was a little flustered. 

'Listen' Siofra ordered. 

_'CREX CREX'_

'It is merely some creature of the bog! Can we just go?' Lindë begged. 

Siofra turned to face her. 'That was a _corncrake._ They live in grasslands and occasionally boglands, but only shallow ones.' 

'I have never heard of such a bird.' Lindë seemed skeptical. 

'I assure you they are real, but rare. Or my Atar is a liar. I am willing to bet that if we leapt in the direction of the call, and leapt far enough, we would land on soft but shallow ground, and would be able to pass through. 

Lindë raked a hand through her silvery hair. 'It is a big risk...are you completely sure?' 

Siofra narrowed her eyes. 'No, but I can find out. Do you trust me Lindë?' 

'Well...yes...I trust you want to progress to the next trial as much as I.' 

Siofra nodded and proceeded to mimic the bird's call. Lindë's eyes widened. She had heard stories about a legendary hunter with such talents as Siofra possessed. 

Meeting said ner in person was far more tragic than legendary however. 

She hated that hunter more than any other in the whole world. 

Siofra, oblivious to Lindë's fascination and inner musings, turned. 'I can now assure you I have been told a clear path through the marsh. We just have to make a jump for that bit of grass over there and we are away.' 

'Brilliant! Let's go!' Lindë broke into a run before leaping and, sure enough, landing on shallow ground. 

'Here we go again!' Siofra copied seconds later. 

sSsSsSssSSsSSsSSssSSsSSssS 

Oromë watched his hunters from his privileged position, silently cheering them on, more than once coming close to leaping in frustration at what he deemed 'unfair' obstacles and pairings. For example, Kyelaeron, who was by far one of his finest hunters, being paired with that _tulip_ of a Vanya. It simply was not fair! Kyelaeron's Games were at stake here! 

He wondered would he be as bothered if Siofra found herself stuck with such a useless partner. He was torn on that front. She was his favourite, there was no denying it. And he did want her to do well, to _win._ However he did not want for her what came with winning. Most notably recognition and the tour of those damn tapestries! 

_True, Kyelaeron's partnering is not ideal, but perhaps the two can work together as well as their relatives did in their Games._ Vána tried to distract him from his current anger, today had not gone very well so far. Oromë honestly had no idea how his wife could be so optimistic all of the time. 

_Their 'relatives' were otornos, were both on the same side in the Games, had known each other since childhood and were of similar temperament and personality. These two could not be more different._ Oromë huffed. 

_Ever the optimist my Love._ Vána replied. _From this distance however, Malta looks much like his cousin, and Kyelaeron like his father. It is as though nothing has changed._

_Kyelaeron's father was covered head to toe in silver armor and would not have been seen dead shirtless, unlike his son._ Oromë at this point was arguing for the sake of it, because he was in a mood. Vána playfully smacked him, and shook her head. 

_Well I can see none of my efforts are improving your mood. Talk to me Meldo. Let us address the elephant in the room, or more appropriately, the hound in the arena! I know you are angry at Námo, but really, he was only doing his job, was he not?_

Oromë smoothered his urge to roar _'THAT WAS NOT NÁMO'S JOB!'_ , but just about composed himself, only for Vána. Instead he replied _He had no right to plonk him in the middle of the Games! Huan's re-embodiment was taken as a piece of entertainment! It is immoral! If Tyelk...if..if his old master were here he would have sent Námo to his own Halls! What is more, if Aranya runs in to him she will recognise him, and it will be a dead giveaway! I need to get that hound out of the arena. NOW!_

Oromë made to storm into the arena... _again._ Vána restrained him... _again._

_Huan obviously agreed to partake in the Games, you know what he is like, no one could force him to do anything against his will, not even...not even Tyelkormo. And the odds are very unlikely that Aranya will run into him._

_Hmmph..._ Oromë sighed. Vána gave him a pointed look. He finally gave over. 

_Perhaps you are right Melda. I should stop worrying and enjoy the Games..._

It was as if Eru was mocking them however, for no sooner had Oromë said these words, he looked down and spied Siofra Aranya and her Telerin partner... 

...facing no other than the mighty hound, _Huan._

sSsSssSsSsSssSSsSSssSSsSsSSSsS 

'COME ON MALTA!' 

'WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR BREAKS!' 

'IF YOUR ARMOUR IS TOO HEAVY TAKE IT OFF!' 

Kyelaeron had never felt like such an _ass_ in his entire life. Yes, his partner was an idiot. Yes, Malta was throwing away precious time as though it were infinite. But to be so bossy, rude and inconsiderate was not how his Ammë raised him, and he could not help but feel a little guilty. At the end of the day Malta was just a clueless young ner who was in _way_ over his head with these Games. Kyelaeron supposed in another situation he would have found the ner endearing and funny, albeit arrogant and naive 

_I will apologise once we reach the centre...once we qualify for the next trial... I need to be the leader here and now...I have to be cruel to be kind..._

'KEEP UP WILL YOU!?' Kyelaeron turned and yelled while running. 

So occupied was Kyelaeron with his shouting of 'encoragement', that he did not realise he was running straight into a trap. 

'AAAGGGHHAA _SHIT!'_

He found himself strung up, tangled in a fine, sticky mesh of silk, curtesy of Vairë. He dangled from a height. 

Malta turned the corner and skidded to a halt, slightly breathless. His tongue was not weary however. 

'Well, it looks like _someone_ needs my help.' He gloated, savouring the moment as though they were not in the middle of an Aráto trial. 

'Look, just get me down. I know I am being bossy, but this trial means a great deal to me. _Please_ Malta! 

To his relief, Malta drew his sword and had him untangled in seconds. The two peered into the distance. The near-invisble trap nets stretched as far as the eye can see. 

Luckily, these two neri's weapon of choice was the sword. They made short work of the traps, all were destroyed within seconds. 

sSsSSsSSSsSsSSsSsSsSsSsSsSS 

_'WOOF WOOF!'_

Siofra found herself floored and half crushed by a huge hound. The dog pounced on her and proceeded to lick her face with the intensity of a tabby cleaning her kitten. In spite of the unnecessary delay to her trial, Siofra giggled. The dog reminded her of her childhood, of the days spent with. _..wait..._

_No! ... It cannot be you!...You left with Atto!...How are you here?!_

_'WOOF!'_

_DO NOT ignore my question, HUAN! Siofra crossed her arms and Huan was reminded instantly of her mother._

However, before Huan was compelled to answer, a scream echoed behind them. It was Lindë... _again._

This time her breakdown was worse however. She looked from Huan to Siofra in shock, shaking her head, proceeding to cover her mouth with her hand. 

She rambled softly. 'No no no no it is not him it is not...he is not here I am safe it is a bad dream that is a nís and a dog it is not them...no no no.' 

She fell to the ground, hugging her knees and burying her head. 

Nothing Siofra or Huan said could compel her to move. 

sSSSssSsSsSsSSsSssS 

Kyelaeron and Malta's path ended abruptly, a large wall preventing them from moving any further. An extremely narrow tunnel in the bottom of the wall was their only hope. 

'It is far too small. We would never be able to crawl it. And if we drag ourselves on our bellies the friction will burn like Anar.' Malta obsereved. 

'You are right. But there is one way we could make it.' Kyelaeron responded. He had an idea of how to get through this. But he did not like it. Valar knew how long the tunnel went on for. The genuine dread he used to feel when he was a boy returned. 

'How can we make it...? Did I mention I am not overly fond of small spaces?' Malta winced. 

Kyelaeron did not like the sound of that. The last thing he needed was for his partner to refuse point blanc to enter the tunnel. Thinking fast, he clapped Malta on the back. 'It is but a few yards. I know, us hunters are experts on tunnels. We dig them to trap _...moles._ This one is no more than a few yards.' He blatantly lied. 

'Are you sure?' Malta was still not fully convinced. 

'Certain.' Kyelaeron replied, ignoring the shake of his voice. 

'Very well. How do you propose we squeeze through this death trap?' Malta asked bluntly. 

It was Kyelaeron's turn to wince. If his Ammë could see him now she would laugh. 'We have to _plank_ crawl.' 

sSsSSsSssssSSsSssSsSsSsSsSSs 

Lindë was seven decades old again, back in Svanhaven on _that_ night...the night her life changed forever..the night she lost everything...the night she still dreamt of, only to wake up screaming...the night her people were _massacred ..._

_That_ night was the reason she joined the warriors. She never wished to feel so helpless again. She wanted to be able to protect and fight for those she loved, as she had failed to do _that_ night. 

That night, she had gotten her hands on a bow and quiver of arrows, curtesy of a fallen foe. Running around the chaos, she found cover and began to fire. 

Of course, she had never used a bow before, thus her shots hit no targets. However, by the time she was down to her final arrow, she had a decent idea of how exactly to fire and aim. 

She waited for the opportune target to present itself. She would not waste this shot. 

The target arrived minutes later in the form of Turcafinwë Tyelkormo. He positioned himself right under her, a perfect position for a deadly arrow to lodge itself in his head, throat or heart. Anywhere deadly, she did not mind. 

She watched and waited, and was almost in awe of the third son of Fëanáro. The power and control of his movements. The strength with each fatal blow from his spear. The protectivness in his stance as he fought back to back with the pretty dark haired Princess- Lindë could not remember her name at the time- his eyes constantly scanning, looking out for each of his brothers. He was beautiful. Proud but wild, a rugged demeanour overcoming his princely one. The power that came from each sculpted muscle on his body, the smirk on his face...as if it was all a hunting game of sorts... the fair hair that flowed freely around him...To the eyes of an adventurous young nís he was _beautiful._

He was also a _monster._

Lindë almost blew her cover as she watched dear friends and cousins taken down eternally by his spear. She almost retched as she saw a child, younger than her lying far too still in the middle of the chaos. She almost screamed when the Princess fired an arrow which made its mark in her Atto's throat. But she did _not._ She would not scream. She would reverse roles. She was now the hunter and _they_ were the prey. She had a chance to take one back for her people. She wanted to see the look on the Princess' face when she hit this beautiful monster in the throat, ending his life as fast as she had just witnessed her own Atar's end. 

Tyelkormo turned slightly, and left himself exposed. He had walked himself into the perfect position for Lindë to take advantage of. She drew her bow and aimed perfectly. 

She fired. 

The arrow made its way to his throat. She almost breathed a sigh of relief. 

But the arrow did not hit Tyelkormo. At the final moment, just as the arrowhead was nicking his skin, a huge blur pounced in front of the Prince, knocking the arrow to the ground with one swift movement of his paw. 

_Huan_ growled at her, she could not hide from him. 

Tyelkormo took a moment to compose himself, the Princess covering for him. He followed Huan's gaze and met eyes with Lindë. 

Lindë had never been more terrified in her life. His eyes... they were _feral._ They glared at her with such fire, such anger, if looks could kill she would be dead thrice over. 

But a second later, on seeing Lindë was but a child, his eyes changed, and for a brief moment the sorrow and regret and guilt emanating from them almost had her in tears. His face went firm again however, and, resuming his glare, he harshly spoke one word to her, before immersing himself back into the battle. 

_'HIDE!'_

And she did. She hid until the battle ended, until she heard her people alone screaming, crying for loved ones who they would not see alive for a long time. 

She learned later that, after her misfire, Tyelkormo went on to kill her two older brothers and five of her cousins. 

Lindë never forgave herself. 

And she never forgot that _beautiful,_ deadly face. 

The same face Siofra had. 

Was it a coincidence? Was she related to him somehow? _...Impossible, there are no members of the Noldo royalty that age!.._. Was nerves bringing her back to a traumatic time in her past? 

She did not know why her partner looked so much like Tyelkormo, but it was worth a good scream and minute for composure at the beginning of the trial. 

Then she was fine, perfectly fine, the trial was going well, Siofra and herself worked brilliantly together, their skills integrating, their different personalities allowing for broader thinking. Everything was _fine_. 

Until she found herself face to face with no other than the hound who had blocked her shot all those years ago. 

Then when she saw Siofra from behind, her long hair concealing her feminine curves, conversing with the animal in a way only _he_ was known to do so, Huan himself greeting her as though she was his old master...It was just too much... too much at once... she could not take it... flashes of the past kept hopping into her head. The more she tried to ignore it the more she thought about it. She could not take it...She _broke..._

Hence she found herself on the ground in the middle of the Games, _hiding._ Hiding the way the monster that was Turcafinwë Tyelkormo had ordered her to all those years ago... 

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

Siofra was at a loss over what to say or do with Lindë. The Telerin nís was currently huddled on the ground, shuddering incontrollably. Siofra looked to Huan _...Huan._ She could not believe it. Why was he here? How? She asked herself and Huan these questions over and over. Huan refused to answer, much to her annoyance. In the midst of the mess that was trial, the emotional warrior, the long lost dog, Siofra could not help but feel deep worry in her gut. _Huan was always with Atto... why has he left his side...?_

Now she found herself questioning Huan yet again, what else could she do? She had no idea how to help Lindë. _Please Huan! I need your help! What is wrong with her?_

Huan growled in a manner that strongly resembled 'hmmph'. _I am meant to be an obstacle here, Aranya, I am already neglecting my task by not pouncing constantly on you and blocking your path through..._

Siofra snapped _You are already enough of an obstacle! Look what you've done to poor Lindë! Valar she must be afraid of dogs the poor girl! Siofra's eyes widened as she realised something. Huan... you called me Aranya...you remember me!...You are Atar's Huan! Do not deny it!_

Huan whined at Aranya's scolding, and ignored the latter part of her statement. Aranya raised an eyebrow _Do not play the pity card with me mister, I know all of your tricks! You taught me them remember?_ She patted Huan on the head nonetheless. Huan responded by wagging his tail. 

_Now tell me how I fix Lindë!_ Siofra pleaded. Huan looked at the warrior and whined again. 

_'I think...'_ Huan began _'...I think she is remembering the kinslaying at Alqualondë.'_ His tail stopped wagging. Siofra gasped, before exclaiming _'But why did the sight of you bring these events to the forefront of her mind?'_

_'I was... there...'_ was all Huan gave away. 

In spite of the trial, Siofra had to ask... _'Atto and Ammë...they did not partake, correct? They were hunters and followed strict morals around ending lives! Tell me Lindë is only remembering you because you were there, not because you attacked!_

Huan's ears drooped. _Aranya... everyone who was there took part. Lindë probably sees your Atar in you also. The two of us together...I am presuming it triggered memories...'_

_'NO!'_ Siofra gasped, her chest heaving. She closed her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Huan nudged his head into her face, a gesture of comfort. Siofra slowly raked a hand through his fur. 

Suddenly, she opened her eyes, determined and resolute. She crouched down beside Lindë, still trembling and now whispering to herself. She lightly shook her shoulders. 'Lindë... _LINDË!...'_ The warrior's head shot up. '...Lindë...' Siofra said once more. '...you are here in Tirion, for the Aráto Games. No one is in danger. I am not going to hurt you, and neither is Huan. Wake up from the past! You cannot change it! All you can do now is focus on the trial ahead. If you do not feel like you can do it, that is fine, we will sit here until the trial is over, okay? But I think I you are a bit like me, and would be a little annoyed at yourself for not finishing a challenge hmmm? If you wish, we can ignore the race element, and just complete the trial, and we can both say, no matter what happens, that we competed in the Aráto Games. How does that sound? Talk to me Lindë!' 

Lindë took deep breaths and, thanks to Siofra's gentle encouragement and assurance, began to recover. 'I am sorry...It's just...I want to finish...but...-' 

'-...I know my appearance probably brings back memories of the Noldor who attacked your home...I am the one who should be sorry...What they did, all they took from you...it was _sick_ to say the least. But Lindë, you have lost enough because of that attack, do not lose the Games because of it!' 

Huan watched Siofra give her moving, motivational speech. He saw Fëanáro. The good Fëanáro. The one who would gently talk each of his sons into facing their fears; Like the time he talked Makalaurë into giving his first public performance, or the time he persuaded Maitimo pass his first Act on the Noldo Council, or the time he almost convinced Ambarussa that they could survive without each other for a week, when Telvo was partaking in a healing workshop in Valmar. 

(In the end Pityo went with Telvo and they took it in turns each day as regards who attended the workshop. Apparently Pityo was the one who actually did the healing exam in the end, even though it was no secret the two of them could talk to each other from leagues away, so cheating was a major possability.) 

Regardless of Ambarussa's refusal to separate, most of the time Fëanáro was able to convince each of his sons to do as he wished. 

Therefore, it was no surprise to Huan when Siofra's easy persuasion did indeed work, and Lindë picked herself up. 'You are right Siofra. It is pointless to live in the past, and let my fears control my future! Let us finish this trial. I will make my family proud.' 

Siofra smiled. 'You already have.' 

Both níssi turned to Huan, who had positioned himself in front of the path again, ready to prevent the girls from passing. However, on seeing this. Siofra merely rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips again, and smirked at him the way Tyelkormo used to. 

'Huan...' She said it out loud, knowing he could comprehend '...I think your presence here has delayed us long enough! And you owe it to Lindë, for partaking in Alqualondë.' 

Huan stood firm for a moment, before giving in and stepping aside. He remembered Lindë from that night. The little girl who, out of all the elves fighting, came closest to sending Tyelko to the halls. Huan did not agree with what Tyelko was partaking in that night, in fact he saw Swanhaven as the death of Tyelkormo and birth of Celegorm. Nevertheless, Tyelkormo had raised him, Tyelkormo was his best friend, he could not imagine life without Tyelkormo, and so Huan could not allow that arrow to hit his master. 

However, Aranya- _...she has grown up so much!.._.-was still not impressed with his action. 'Huan' She asked sweetly, in the exact tone she used when she was barely able to reach his neck. 'Can you give us a ride please? To the centre of the maze. We both know how fast you can run. Think of it as a favour, for me... _please_ boy?' 

Huan shook his head...Námo was going to kill him... then again, he was free of Námo's grasp now, and did not intend to return to the Halls any time soon. He was _free._

And how could anyone say no to those gleaming green eyes? 

ssssSsSSsSSsSSsSSsSSssSSsSSsSS 

The Ladies in the royal box looked on the trial with stupefied expressions. More specifically, they looked down at the two níssi who flew through the maze atop _Huan._ Huan. It was no secret to any elf who knew anything of the royal family that the only Elda Huan allowed on his back was Tyelkormo. On very rare occasions Írissë, but most of the time, only Tyelkormo. 

Findis was the first to comment to her three law sisters in osanwë. _Well now we can be sure rumours are going to spread... It looks like your work is going to be cut out for you on the Council, Anairë._

_Rumours would have spread no matter what. Replied Anairë. And nothing about this scene is linking her to Írissë, only Tyelkormo. If all came to all, the people would accept a lovechild of Tyelkormo. What we really have to worry about is evidence she is the lovechild of Tyelkormo and his own cousin._

_Did you see her partner? She recognised Huan and saw Siofra's resemblence to Tyelko. I fear what someone spilling her heritage too soon to her might do. My House has a history of overreacting to unexpected news..._ Nerdanel sighed. 

_True_ answered Eärwen. _But did you see the way she was able to console Lindë, wake her from her trauma. That takes great strength and willpower. Chances are she knows her parents partook in... in Swanhaven. That is the half the shock if you ask me._

A throat cleared beside the four. The Ladies were reminded of the presence of Arafinwë, who no doubt thought them all a very quiet bunch. The King attempted to break the silence with a statement for Nerdanel. 

'This may seem crazy, Nerdanel, but, the nís that currently rides Huan, is the spitting image of Tyelkormo, don't you think?' 

Eärwen sniggered in her law sisters' heads. _Oh my Ara! Ever the observant one!_

It was all Nerdanel could do to keep a straight face as she replied. 'You don't say Ara! Well now you mention it...My Eru! She really is quite similar from a distance!' 

Ara donned a confused expression as he glanced the níssi shaking with laughter. 

sssSsSsSSsSsSssSSSsSssSssSsSssS 

The tunnel was cerainly more than a few yards. The neri emerged with very sore abdomens and wounded pride, Malta may have broken down in tears halfway through, fearing the walls closing in on him. Kyelaeron had screamed louder than the day he was born when he felt something on his foot, which turned out to be a mere baby mouse. 

He half wished Aranya was there, if only apologise to the little fellow for him. Then again, Kyelaeron never wanted Aranya to find out a tiny mouse provoked such a reaction. 

They came to a crossroads of sorts, and were at a loss as regard which path to tread. The tunnel had completely thown their sense of direction. 

Kyelaeron peered down each path. He knew they could not go back the way they came, so that left three options. He honestly had no idea where they were or where the centre was. 

Suddenly, he heard a laugh he knew like the back of his hand. _..Aranya..._

It came from the middle path. That must be the way! Aranya had already reached the centre, so if her voice was carrying from the centre to the middle path... 

...They were almost there... 

'It's this way! Come on!' Kyelaeron beckoned his partner. Malta did not move. 

Kyelaeron turned to face him. 'Malta it is this way. I can hear my osellë! She told me a while ago in osanwë she had reached the centre! I can hear her laughter coming from this path. 

Malta's eyes went wide. 'No...' he gasped. 'That is not the path.' 

'Excuse me? But I heard-...' 

'I heard my brother calling me from that path.' Malta pointed to the left. 

Kyelaeron did not want to call Malta a liar, but he knew for a fact he had heard Anya, and he also knew she had completed her trial. For all he knew, Malta's brother may be in as much of a predicament as them. 

'Malta, I definately heard her, I think..-' 

'You misunderstand.' Malta interupted. 'This is the work of Irmo. He is using our loved ones as an illusion, to blur the correct path. Try connecting to your osellë in osanwë now, you will not be able. It is a trick Kyelaeron, trust me. The path we should thread is that one.' He pointed to the right, the path that called to neither of them. 

Sure enough, when Kyelaeron called Anya through their bond, he received no response _at all,_ and Anya _always_ responded, even when she was in a bad mood. 

'You...you're right.' Kyelaeron gasped. How close had he just come to blowing his chance at the Games? All in the name haste. 

_'KEEP UP WILL YOU?!'_ Malta smirked, using Kyelaeron's own words against him. 'This is the second time I have saved your proud behind!' 

Malta raced ahead before Kyelaeron could say anything in response. _'Brat...'_ Kyelaeron mumured to himself '...look who's talking.' 

sSsSSsSsSsSssSssSsSsSSsSsSsSSsS 

The final stage of the trial was a simple, but tiring, sprint through the forest. On emerging from the cover of the trees, the competitors would have climb onto a steep platform in order to be counted as 'finished'. Of course, one was not finished until their fellow partner was also on the platform. 

Siofra and Lindë's 'sprint' through the forest was a breeze. They were not the one's sprinting. Huan carried them like the wind, and even saved them the bother of climbing onto the platform themselves. With one strong leap the hound had them at the finish line, the centre of the maze. Siofra and Lindë jumped for joy and hugged each other. To think that moments before, not even finishing was a strong possability. And here they were, the _first_ team to finish. 

Olorin released a firework, signalling one place of warrior and hunter had been taken. 

The crowd went wild. Both níssi, unused to such applause stared around in awe, at a loss over what to do. Huan decided he would respond with his signature _'WOOF'!_ He wagged his tail. He was the real hero here after all. 

Suddenly, Siofra remembered Kyelaeron, and the tricky partner he said he had. In all honesty, she had not thought about him much during the trial. She felt slightly guilty for forgetting him, but, to be fair, she reasoned she did have _a lot_ to deal with. She made contact with him in osanwë. 

_Kyelaeron...?_

_Anya... Are you okay?_

_Yes! We are finished! Where are you?_

_Underground, in a damn tunnel! We started slow but have picked up the pace. Are many finished?_ He said the last part in panic. 

_No...just us... Hang on.. I see more pairs emerging from the woods...you still have time otorno, but hurry!_

Sure enough, the next few pairs emerged from the trees. Siofra began to panic. She heard more fireworks go off. She wished she could help Kyelaeron! He could use help, like what she and Lindë had in Huan. 

_Huan..._ That was it! The answer! Huan could go fetch her otorno, save his trial, his Games! 

_'Huan?'_ she asked in her sweet voice. 

_'No'_ was the only response she received. 

_'But I didn-...'_

_'I am **not** a horse Aranya! I only ever let your Atar and you on my back...and...one or two exceptions. I cannot help your sworn brother.' _

_'Please Huan!'_

_'I am not as soft as your Atar! My answer will not change!'_

_'HHHMMMPPHHH! '_

Huan shook his head, amused by Siofra's attitude. 

More and more pairs clambered up on the platform. By the time twenty pairs had finished, Siofra was pacing the floor. 

sSSSSsssSSsSSSsSSs 

Meanwhile, Kyelaeron and Malta were sprinting through the forest. 

Kyelaeron counted twenty-three fireworks. That meant only two more pairs would qualify... 

**_BANG CRAAACCK BANG BOOOM!_ **

...only _one_ more pair would qualify... 

Both he and Malta were going as fast as they possibly could... but he knew it would not be enough. The woods were full of partners absolutely legging it, hoping for that final chance to succeed onto the next round. They were losing ground on other competitors, who were quicker on foot. 

Kyelaeron's strength when it came to running was always long-distance, never speed. There were over one hundred hunters he knew that could sprint faster than him. As regards Malta, well, his armour was so heavy he was struggling to keep up with even Kyelaeron. 

He almost felt like giving up, as he saw the furthest pair almost at the edge of the trees. Yards upon yards between them. It was no use! He was doing his best and it was not enough! It was over! He was _so_ close but his tune had finished. Malta had slowed significantly and was now trailing behind. Once the furthest pair reached the edge of the clearing Kyelaeron would stop. Once they were out of the trees, he knew they would be too far ahead...He would stop once the pair reached the edge of the trees... _the trees._

Kyelaeron's drooping head snapped up so fast he heard his neck crack. The _TREES!.._ That was the solution! He remembered his mother's words: 

_The trees are our survival, our allies. Always listen to them onya._

Kyelaeron smirked. The trees were certainly his allies today! And they were about to ensure his survival in the Games! 

He skidded to a halt, reached out with his fëa, greeted the trees with a gentle music, told them his plight, suggested how they might help. 

He let his mind flow freely, released all emotions. He embraced the connection to the forest his Avarin heritage ensured. He let everything go. 

His sliver eyes glowed with a sheen of light for a split second, as power raced through him. He reached his hand to the sky, before slamming it down in a motion that spelled power and control. 

Every pair of racing hunter and warrior in the woods screamed in shock, save for Kyelaeron and Malta. Vines and branches grasped each opponent of Kyelaeron, hoisting them high in the trees, refusing to loosen their grasp. 

With no competitors to threaten them, Kyelaeron and his partner made their way to the platform, Malta shaking like a leaf. 

sSsSsSsSsssSsSSsSsSSsSssSSsSss 

Vayelya was jumping up and down in her seat. _Where is he?_

The final piece of forestry before the centre was just out of view for her. It was at times like these she missed being a 'Lady'. Nobles got the best seats, _always._

The firework went off, reminding her twenty-four out of twenty-five had made it through. 

There was only one space left! What in the name of Arda was Kyelaeron doing!? Surely he was as good a fighter as his Atar!? 

_Perhaps my dear nephew should have stuck with music?_

_Then again, his partner was not the easiest to work with._

Vayelya decided to blame the partner for everything, and began muttering curses under her breath, subconsciously insulting each and every Vanya that walked on Arda. She stopped when she realised that half the seats around her were in fact occupied by Vanyar, and they were all glaring at her as though she were a mad nís. 

She slumped into her seat and sighed, it was only a matter of time now. She could not bear the thought of Kyelaeron losing. She had seen the hope in his eyes, hope for victory. 

She spied a pair about to emerge from the woods. 

It was _not_ her nephew. 

Vayelya could not take it anymore. She stood up in her seat and began blatantly shouting at the pair to 'fall over' or 'stop running' and the likes. 

Then the trees began to shake. 

She looked on in awe as vines and branches began to swing from nowhere. She heard the crowd gasp collectively. Even the Valar were leaning in from their seats. She heard screams, and next time she looked, the pair on the edge were high up in the trees. 

There was magic at work here... Well Vayeyla knew it wasn't really magic, more like a deep connection to the nature of Arda, but that is what she had called it, when she witnessed her osellë converse with trees. Sometimes Vayeyla was on the receiving end of a vine that refused to put her down, mostly a punishment for teasing her osellë and her brother about their romantic relationship. 

This 'magic' screamed Elenā. Vayeyla knew only one person in the Games who could be the reason for this. 

She watched with pride as Kyelaeron and his Vanya partner emerged from the forest. The partner looked a little pale, but awestruck at the same time. He stayed alongside Kyelaeron, despite her nephew's slow but steady pace. 

She saw Aranya, who she had recognised from the opening ceremony, halt her pacing, gasp in shock, then burst into tears, all while jumping up and down and squeezing the hand off the nís who she had been partnered with. 

She saw the Valar. Nessa had a strangely proud look on her face. Yavanna looked intrigued. Tulkas seemed in disbelief at the fact that Kyelaeron's partner was going to proceed to the next round. Manwë and Varda and most of the others politely applauded. 

Vána jumped up from her seat and started shouting in joy, before remembering that she was not supposed to have favourites. Oromë met eyes with his sister and nodded, before joining his wife in celebration, it was a brilliant performance after all. A Game well played. A Trial well done. 

Kyelaeron ignored the crowd of thousands watching, applauding and cheering him. He half closed his eyes in concentration, keeping an arm outstretched towards the forestry. He slowly reached the platform ensuring both he and his partner managed to climb on before he finally released his grip, dropped his hand. The trees reacted immediately, gently lowering the now eliminated competitors to the ground. They made their way to the clearing, exhausted after fruitless struggles to be released from the trees' grasp. However, they held no malice towards the ner that bested them. 

Instead, they began to _clap._

Aranya started clapping like crazy too, before slamming herself into Kyelaeron. The two laughed and cried simultaneously. 

Elves all around her began to stand and clap. The applause was thunderous. What an achievement! _A standing ovation, from all peoples of Aman!_

Kyelaeron nearly fainted when he looked up, only to see each and every one of the Valar standing and applauding him also. 

sSsSsSSsSSsSSssSssSssSs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> Orqui- Orcs 
> 
> sSsSSsSSssSssSssSssSssSss 
> 
> ANOTHER CHAPTER! 
> 
> I must say I found this one difficult to write, I think it was inventing all the different obstacles in the trial that got me. Needless to say, at 5 am I am glad this is finished! 
> 
> More good parenting with Tyelko and Írissë: 
> 
> Rule 1. It is always a competition. 
> 
> Rule 2:Act like kids all the time and your kid will grow up to be a big kid at heart 
> 
> Rule 3:Alcohol is the solution to everything 
> 
> I find the Tyelko and Itarillë 'dolly tea party' adorable and idk why but it makes me wanna cry. 
> 
> I wonder who braids Fingon's hair? coughRussingoncough 
> 
> I feel like Elenā has had the most unlucky two lives ever! Even though I guess she was happy in Aman (even when separated from her husband, 'cos she had Kyelaeron). On the bright side, the fact that Elena's family is in Endor can only mean even more long lost family to reunite with if/when Siofra and Kyelaeron go to Middle Earth. 
> 
> Sorry if the very angsty death description and PTSD scenes triggered you...and the slightly cringey romance *cough* 'silver oh I love silver silver lalalala *cough* 
> 
> I am pretty sure in LACE that proposals include the exchange of rings from both the ner and the nís...but then again I think that is for planned bethrols...Anyway for this proposal there are two rings and I have done my best to stick to Tolkien's marriage 'laws'. 
> 
> Lindë...poor poor Lindë. Like talk about facing ones fears, nightmares and past all in one day! 
> 
> I love how Siofra immediately puts the blame on Huan like 'WTF Huan Lindë here is ofc afraid of dogs!' 
> 
> Also, Huan's epic failure in pretending not to be Huan. He literally goes 'Woof woof oh HI ARANYA!...oh shit..I mean Woof.' 
> 
> Ara...oh Ara... keep up with the gossip already! 
> 
> Oromë and Vána are creeping their way up to being my favourite couple. The chemistry is hilarious like I just can't. 
> 
> Malta...I really don't know what to say... I mean, if he didnt delay so long with his hair maybe Kyelaeron would never have got to have his heroic ending to the first trial? 
> 
> Vayeyla at the Games is me at a football match. 
> 
> And Kyelaeron, the tree magic thing is pretty cool I have to admit! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, hope ye all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what ye think! 
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	13. Rumours and Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumours spread like wildfire in Tirion. Some people figure it out. Also a little Interlude in... well, you'll see...

_Halls of Mandos, First Age 505..._

'This needs to stop. How can her fëa ever heal if she constantly stares at those tapestries?! She needs to accept there is nothing she can do to help him anymore! It is hard, it took me _years._ But this is _madness_ Finno, surely you can see it. You are in better shape than her, and you arrived years later!' 

Arakáno looked down at his eldest brother pleadingly, and Findékáno was somehow reminded of the days his baby brother was looking _up_ to him, begging for his help with something or other. 

'I know.' He sighed. 'But you need to be more patient with her hanno. It is not easy to let go and accept that you are dead. It is frustrating watching your loved ones make mistakes that may prove fatal. You know this, but you did not leave a son behind.' 

Arakáno lost his cool. 'No, but I was ALONE here for YEARS! And I watched you, Atar, Írissë, ALL _die!_ What is more, I had to watch that BASTARD, MONSTER, PSYCHOPATH ruin our sister until she was naught but a shell! Finno, I would go as far as to compare it to the torment Maitimo suffered. I cannot be patient with this matter hanno! I _need_ her to heal. She needs to recover! I want the old Írissë back.' 

Findékáno's eyes narrowed at what Arakáno had just divulged regarding exactly what Ëol had done to their sister. Pain and fury raged through whatever one could call his current existence. 

He knew Írissë had suffered greatly, knew she was imprisoned, beaten and... -he felt the urge to retch despite his form-... _raped._ He knew she had been _changed._ But when he arrived in the Halls, Arakáno (be it due to Finno's delicate condition, or the pain the information caused Arakáno himself),only glossed over the details. And now to think...to think his sister had suffered _that_ much... 

Arakáno had seen Russandol's torture on the tapestries, he even knew more of it than Findékáno did himself. For Findékáno had seen Nelyo in pain long enough, in the days of his recovery, and thus avoided those tapestries. And back when he was alive, Findékáno had focused more on the mental well being and physical healing of his dearest cousin, rather than demanding accounts of what had happened. Maitimo would have told him if he had wished to, and, as it turned out, he had not. 

Another stab of pain hit Findékáno. He had witnessed through the tapestries the effect his own death had on Maedhros. His mental state, so carefully glued back together after Thangorodrim, had all but shattered again into a million pieces. 

Fingon took a deep breath. _There was and is nothing I can do for Nelyo... But now I can do my best for Írissë..._

'You are right little brother, trauma is expected after one faces what she faced, but she should have made much more progress in her recovery than this! It scares me how much she has changed. The Írissë we knew would never wallow in regret and sorrow .' 

Arakáno's ghostly eyes went distant. 'You...you didn't see her when she first arrived. I...I didn't _recognise_ her Finno. I knew from the tapestries she was here, and I was looking for her. I passed by her a hundred times, and I didn't know it was her. I didn't know my _own sister_ Finno! She was alone for hours, days- I don't know. The fight, the pride, the strength of will and body, the determination, Ai Valar even that awful stubbornness! It was not there Finno!.. _He._.he took it all away...' 

Finno closed his ghostly eyes. Of all people...why Írissë?...Why did it have to be Írissë? 

Findékáno wanted to bash Ëol's fëa to bits before slamming it into the Void... he deserved ten times worse. Unfortunately, Námo's Maia felt the need to imprison/protect Ëol in a private cell, Arákano had tried and failed and faced punishment countless times for attempting to force his way in before Findékáno died. 

And after the two of them combined had tried twice that amount, to no avail. All souls were protected in these Halls, even the wicked. 

It was not fair...True, none of his doomed family were innocent by any means, but at least their actions did not match that of Melkor and his Maia. 

He felt Arakáno reach out with his fëa, gently brushing against his own, somewhat the equivalent of an embrace. Fingon leaned in, accepting his brother's comfort. Arakáno had taken Finno's old role in these Halls, mothering them all the way an older brother did, even mothering their Atar. 

As if feeling guilty for Finno's change of mood, Arakáno brightened a little. 'Well, I think her absolute refusal to listen to us and adamancy to not so much as move a yard from those tapestries is proof enough that said stubbornness has returned.' 

Findékáno shook his head wryly, the tragedy of it all momentarily becoming comedy. 

Suddenly, an enraged and maddened yell dragged them from their conversation. 

'YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT TURUKÁNO! THAT IS NOT WHAT HE NEEDS! AI VALAR WHY CAN NO ONE UNDERSTAND! HE IS _LONELY!_ TYPICAL SMALL MINDED COURT OF IDIOTS! JUST BECAUSE HE IS DIFFERENT THEY TREAT HIM LIKE A CRIMINAL! HYPOCRATES! HALF OF THEM ARE KINSLAYERS AND THEY DARE LOOK AT MY _INNOCENT_ BOY AS THOUGH HE IS INFERIOR TO THEM! HE DID NOT CHOOSE WHO HIS FATHER WAS!' 

Írissë's brothers were by her side in an instant, desperately trying to calm her down from her near insane rant. 

As Arakáno reached out with his fëa, sending soothing waves of calm, Findékáno glanced at the latest tapestry of Gondolin, which had caused his sister's outburst. Nothing too out of the ordinary appeared to be happening, Turukáno had just ordered Lómion to take a months holiday from his duties after... oh... 

...After yet another passionate verbal attack on Itarillë's husband. 

Findékáno knew he should not contradict his dear sister, she was not herself. But, he could not help the thought that crossed his mind- _...True, Lómion does not deserve the mistrust and prejudice...however he is far from innocent... he is jealous..._

Unfortunately for Findékáno, Írissë happened to hear his monologue. He found himself pinned against a tapestry. 

'YOU ARE BEING FOOLED BY HIS ANTICS JUST AS MUCH AS THOSE OTHER FOOLS! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! ITARILLË WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO SHOWED HIM TRUE KINDNESS AND EMPATHY. TURGON TRIED, BUT HE WAS NEVER EMOTIONALLY COMPETENT. THEN SOME MAN SHOWS UP AND IT IS TRUE LOVE AND NEXT THING ITARILLË'S MARRIED AND HAS A CHILD AND SUDDENLY LÓMION HAS NO ONE! OF COURSE HE IS GOING TO TAKE HIS ANGER OUT ON THE MAN! HE IS STILL SO YOUNG...HE DOES NOT KNOW ANY DIFFERENT. I...I...WHY DID I LEAVE HIM?! HE NEEDS ME!' 

'Írissë...' Findékáno gasped, staring into her mad, deranged, ghostly eyes '...please ...let go of me...' 

'Peace Nésa' Arakáno came between the two, gently. 'You did not choose to leave him Írissë, it was not your fault. You saved your son.' 

And then Írissë was on the floor, shaking like a leaf, remembering _who_ killed her, remembering all said murderer had done to her before that. 

'Írissë!...ÍRISSË! LOOK AT ME! ÍRISSË.' Findékáno shook his sister from the past, doing all in his power to heal her. He had done it before for Russandol...why wasn't it working for his sister...? 

_Because she needs someone who will never come back... someone who knew and understood her inside out..._ Findékáno closed his eyes and sighed _...she needs Tyelkormo..._

Findékáno, on entering the Halls, was hit with a truth which, on hindsight, he really ought to have seen coming. He had held little love for Tyelkormo, or rather, never was really close to him. However, on seeing the tapestries it was clear his cousin had loved Írissë dearly, and made her happy and _that,_ Finno supposed, was all that mattered. 

And then of course, there was the niece he never knew existed... 

Findékáno could not help but feel disappointed for missing out on the childhood of the _one-of-a-kind,_ Siofra Aranya. He had loved playing the role of doting uncle and spoiling Itarillë rotten. Then again, what right did he have to feel disappointed? Aranya's own parents has missed most of her childhood. 

A large part of Fingon's own recovery involved watching the crazy, carefree and humorous life of Aranya in the woods, the mischief she caused, and the relentless teasing between herself and her otorno. 

_Perhaps I can use this technique to help Írissë recover...?_

'Írissë...?' He said her name more gently this time. 'Look over there...!' He pointed to the latest tapestry from Tirion _'...It's Aranya...'_

Írissë's head shot up '...she is following in your footsteps, competing in the Aráto Games! She was the first to complete the First Trial. The apple doesn't fall far!' 

'Aranya... my dear, little, sweet Aranya...' Írissë whispered, voice cracking before she suddenly sobbed _'BABY!'_

She ran over to Aranya's tapestry, finally leaving Gondolin after... _days?...Months? Years?..._ Findékáno was not sure. Time was tricky to measure here. 

'She has grown up... she is _beautiful...'_ Írissë stroked her daughter's face on the cloth, as gentle as one stroking a sleeping baby's cheek. 

Findékáno felt Arakáno's glare on him. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what was the matter. _It will have the opposite effect to what you wish, hanno..._ was all his younger brother gave away. 

Sure enough, Írissë was soon screaming again, full of self loathing. 

'WHY DID WE LEAVE HER?! WE LEFT HER ALONE, FOR _WHAT?!_ LOOK AT ME, A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A MOTHER! LEFT BOTH MY CHILDREN ALONE IN THE WORLD!' 

Findékáno had to think fast to fix this mess. 

'Írissë _LOOK!_ She is not _alone!_ See, all her friends, all the hunters! See Oromë and Vána! See her otorno! They all love and adore her!' 

Findékáno pointed to a tapestry depicting the fierce embrace of otorno and osellë, after the First Trial. Írissë eyed it curiously, as if suspecting something horrible to happen in the scene. But nothing did, all that emanated from the cloth was joy, camaraderie, sweet victory. 

'He... he does seem nice...' Írissë whispered, commenting on her daughter's otorno. 

'He does' smiled Findékáno 'He will always look out for her.' 

Írissë studied the otono's face again 'The... the boy in the woods... and his Ammë... and... and the kissing. ' 

Suddenly she was hysterically laughing, which in a way was even more worrying. 

'What is so funny Nésa?' Arakáno tried to have her explain, if only to ease his concern. 

Írissë looked at them half amused, half depressed beyond measure. 'In another life, in another rendition of Eru's song, if Ammë had her way... those two might have been brother and sister by blood.' 

'I... see.' Findékáno did not comprehend her in the slightest. 

Írissë's eyes were sorrowful, distant in memory. 'She was the only 'right' thing I ever did. So purely good natured and happy and _free._ Tyelko and I did not deserve her. No wonder fate separated us.' 

Years of practicing politics under Neylo's guidance meant Findékáno knew an opportunity when he saw one... 

'But _Írissë '_ he began once again. 'You _will_ see her again. It is only a matter of time. You _will_ be released someday, nésa. But in order to be released, you must forgive yourself, recover, let go of those you left behind.' 

Írissë shook her head 'I do not deserve to be released... I don't, I am a bad, worthless person...I...-' 

'YOU ARE LETTING THE FILTH THAT SPAWN OF MORGOTH TOLD YOU CORRUPT YOUR MIND ÍRISSË! ËOL...-YES I SAID HIS NAME NÉSA!...- _ËOL_ CONTROLLED YOU LONG ENOUGH, DO NOT LET HIS LIES IMPRISON YOU NOW! YOU ARE **_FREE_ ** SISTER, FREE AS YOU EVER WERE!' Arakáno's impatience yet again got the better of him. 

Before Findékáno could scold Arakáno for his insensitive outburst, who bet him to it but Írissë. 

The _old_ Írissë. 

'I MAY BE INSANE LITTLE HANNO, BUT DO NOT BELIEVE FOR A SECOND I EVER LISTENED TO _HIM._ AND NEVER SO MUCH AS DARE TO MENTION THAT NAME IN MY PRESENCE _EVER_ AGAIN!' 

The words were said with such ferocity that Írissë's brothers were afraid to so much as _move._ She ordered Arakáno as though she were a Queen, restoring her aura of royalty that was always _there_ , despite her wildness. Her arms were crossed, back straight, subconscious regal bearing, scowling and glaring the way their Ammë did. 

She continued 'AND FORGIVE ME IF I DESPAIR, BUT, MY _SON_ IS LIVING IN FEAR AND LOATHING IN A WORLD WHERE NO ONE UNDERSTANDS HIM! MY _DAUGHTER_ DOES NOT EVEN KNOW MY NAME, NOR HER FATHER'S AND GREW UP WITHOUT US! AND, THANKS TO AN OATH BASED ON PURE AND UTTER RECKLESS _STUPIDTY,_ CHANCES ARE THAT NEVER AGAIN WILL I SEE _MELDO,_ MY OTORNO AND _BEST FRIEND!_ She snapped, before storming away, out of Vairë's tapestries, leaving the two neri speechless. 

'Well...' began Findékáno after a moment. '...that was _one_ way of getting her away from the tapestries.' 

Arakáno said nothing, but the beam on his face did not need explaining. 

Finally he opened his mouth. 

'She's _back.'_

Findékáno knew Írissë had a long way to go. He knew she was far, far from healed. He knew she needed to forgive herself. He knew, despite her harsh assurances, that Ëol still affected her. 

He knew she would never truly heal without Tyelkormo. 

_But she may just heal enough to get herself out of this accursed place..._

_It will be a long road..._

_But to the Void with me if I did not just witness the fire of fëa that is Írissë..._

'Yes, hanno' Findékáno finally responded. 'I believe our sister is indeed back.' 

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

Lindë, physically and mentally rested and recovered after the eventful trial, made her way to the training ground of the Warriors. 

The camp was luxurious, considering it was a camp, but she had to admit the bed in her tent did not match the comfort of her bed in the House of Tulkas. She also found her private tent a little too small. 

She did not like Tirion much. It was _stuffy._ She longed for the sea breeze, for a swim in the cool water. To lay back and admire the gems adorning the shore and glistening through the waves. 

She missed home. 

She wished there was a pool, or a lake (or better yet, a sea) near the camp. Swimming cleared her head. Bathing in the baths provided was not quite as effective. 

So instead she was going to practice her swordplay. It would be a very productive thing to do, she supposed, getting both practice and peace done at once. 

Her fellow warriors were scattered around. Some off exploring the city, some cleaning and shining their armour, some relaxing and whittling their weapons and some...- she rolled her eyes-... _gossiping._

Lindë never had much patience for idle chat and speculation over so much as the tiniest fact or action of another person. Not only did she find it unfair and not particularly kind, it was also downright _boring._

She did not like to even think of... of _Fëanáro,_ but she could not help remembering the Noldo Princes' famous words... 

_'Great minds talk about ideas. Average minds talk about events. Small minds talk about people.'_

'Small minded indeed.' She whispered to herself as she passed a group of particularly 'stuck up' warriors. Most of them from wealthy, powerful families, always strutting around with an air of superiority to everyone else. 

Lindë had decided she did not like this particular clique the very first day she arrived to begin her training. It was not a year since the infamous, tragic attack on her home, and Lindë herself was still half traumatised. And yet, this clique had the nerve to whisper tall tales of her losses, offer fake, sympathetic and pitying smiles when she was looking, stating ridiculous reasons the Teleri would never be great fighters the moment her back was turned. 

She proved them wrong, as she trained harder and got stronger and stronger each day, until she had bested all of them. 

This however only led to their jealousy, resulting in even more rumours. 

Lindë did not take the bait and lash out. She was above that, and them. And it was not as if they were singling her out, Valar no. Almost every warrior was scrutinised, their flaws closely read and discussed. 

Hoping to avoid so much as a glance from the gossip group, Lindë kept her head down and picked up her walking pace, _almost at the edge of the grounds... almo-..._

'LINDË!' A voice shouted from the very group she wished to completely avoid. 

Cringing, rolling her eyes and sighing all at the same time, Lindë turned around, struggling, but just about managing, to pull out a fake smile. 'Yes, Sanda?' She answered. 

With the most insincere laugh and wave, the ner replied 'Come here a moment!' 

'I would, Sanda, but I am going to practice.' 

'Oh Lindë!' a tall and fair Vanya named Alma shook her head and laughed, as false as Sanda had been. 'It will only be for a moment! Come now, we are not like the swans of your home, we do not bite!' 

Lindë wanted to reply _'Yes and Lion's Mane jellyfish do not bite either, though I would never like to go near one!'_ but by the grace of the Valar she held her tongue. 

She did not miss the slight dig at Alqualondë. Lindë felt the urge to punch the smug nís in the face. 

_You probably spent the last hour coming up with that one, so, so clever of you_ she sarcastically muttered to herself. 

Nevertheless, she made her way over to the clique. _I wonder what they want from me...?_

'Congratulations Lindë on finishing first. None of us were expecting that!' Kalima, an athletic Noldo nís, exclaimed, carefully cut words meaning anything but phrase. 

Lindë knew how to play along. 

'Why thank you Kalima. And hard luck to you! I guess the maze just did not suit your capabilities!' 

Fínëa, another ner, attempted to conceal Kalima's obvious rage with another _stupid_ laugh. 'Well, if the trial had been _fair,_ then my nésa here would have gotten through. She was the closest to the platform when that Avarin _cheater_ pulled that fast one.' 

'Cheater?' questioned Lindë. She knew if Siofra were here, her hyperactive partner would not be able to restrain herself from starting a brawl. Lindë knew the 'cheater' in question was Siofra's otorno, and the bruises on Lindës hand from her partner's frantic worrying were proof enough of how close the two were. 

'Well _obviously_ he cheated!' responded Sanda, almost angrily. 'What else would you call someone controlling nature itself in that manner!' 

Lindë could not restrain her smart-arse reply this time. 

'Ahh perhaps you would call it using ones heritage to their advantage? You know, like how us Teleri excel in water, or how the Noldor use their creative mindset and knowledge help them? I would call it using the talents given-...' 

'No no, what he did was _unnatural.'_ Alma could not stop herself. 'He is bound to be disqualified any time today.' 

'Mmmm' was all Lindë managed to utter, all while sarcastically thinking, _Oh yes, he will most certainly be disqualified, especially after that standing ovation from the Valar themselves! Disqualified MY ASS! YOU AIRHEAD!_

Fínëa cleared his throat. 'Anyways Lindë, we wanted to ask you something.' 

'Fire away.' Lindë answered. _I will go out of my way to do the complete opposite of what you ask._

The group seemed to subconsciously huddle over, a few checking over their shoulders before Kalima finally asked 'Your partner, yesterday. Did you notice anything _familiar_ about her?' 

_Familiar?...Yes, she was so 'familiar' I broke down... **twice.** _

'No.' she answered affirmatively. 'Why do you ask?' 

'Well...' Sanda checked over his shoulder again, as if anyone cared what he and his friends were discussing. 'We have it on good grounds to believe that...' he looked behind him again. Lindë was sure he did it for dramatic effect. 

Lindë could not stop the sarcasm rampaging her brain. 

_...That...she is Tyelkormo's daughter? Wow... nothing gets past you clever clogs! It is not as if half the camp have been talking about that all morning..._

'...that she is Prince Turkafinwë Tyelkormo reincarnated!' Sanda finished, looking as though he had solved a century-long mystery. 

Lindë did a double take. 

_'WHAT?!'_ She exclaimed. 'You are joking right?' 

Their serious expressions answered that question. 

Lindë could not help it. She laughed and laughed and laughed. 

She felt their judgement on her, but she cared even less than she had before. How could she care when they were so unbelievably gullible? 

Finally she composed herself enough to say. 'I hate to contradict your little 'conspiracy', but you do realise, if Tyelkormo died, he would go to the everlasting darkness?' 

'Not if he or his father or brothers reclaimed the silmarils' Alma answered. 

'If they reclaimed the silmarils before or after Tyelkormo supposedly 'died', he would be in Lord Námo's Halls. I doubt he would be released before those he killed, before the innocents who did not even wield a weapon at Swanhaven were re-embodied.' Lindë could not help but roll her eyes at the fact she needed to explain how the Halls worked. 

'But what if Námo did release him. And released him as a girl to cover his tracks?' Kalima suggested. 

'Then there would be another rebellion, this time by the Teleri. And why would he do that? The Fëanorions insulted Námo and his fellow Valar in the worst way possible. And Siofra is only a few decades younger than me, born before the flight.' 

'Do you have proof though?' Sanda questioned. 

_That single piece of information is more evidential than any of the codswallop you have all thrown in my face!_

'Do _you_ have proof?' Lindë narrowed her eyes. A tense stare off ensued between her and Sanda 

'Anyways...' Fínëa interrupted. '...We do not want your opinion Lindë, we want your account of this nís. We know you hold a strong grudge towards the House of Fëanáro, don't worry we understand. Did this girl... _remind_ you of Tyelkormo in any way?' 

_You did NOT just ask me to do that..._

Lindë finally lost her cool. 

'No' she began. 'She didn't remind me of Tyelkormo _at all._ Then again, did I know Tyelkormo? No. I only saw him once, as he killed half my family. And you want me to recount that for you? Siofra was kind and compassionate and helpful, very understanding. Unlike all of _you._ How can any of you have the nerve to ask me to remember the darkest day of my life just to satisfy your made-up gossip fantasies? You should all be ashamed, but it's clear you are incapable of such. _Good day.'_

With that she stormed off to the training ground, strangely feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her chest. 

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

A few paces away from Lindë, Malta sparred with his brother. 

_'Yield'_ He smirked, after successfully disarming and knocking Culoxë to the ground for the seventh time in a row. 

'How is it that you can barely tie your bootlace, and yet, the one thing you excel at is sword fighting!' Culoxë grumpily replied. 

Malta smirked and shrugged, giving his brother a hand up. 'Guess it was those extra lessons cousin Laurë gave me when you, hanno, were too busy charming the níssi!' 

'I was just enjoying my youth! It is not my fault that _you,_ little hanno, were far too young to be out charming níssi back then!' 

'Technically it was Laurë's youth too. But somehow, between the Aráto Games and the persistent attempts to court that nís... what was her name?...Never mind, my point is he still found the time to train me!' Malta teased. 

'Hey that's not fair!' Culoxë protested. 'I was not gone that much! And since you keep besting me with the damn sword, it seems like Laurë was a better teacher than me anyway!' 

'True' Malta cockily flicked his hair over his shoulder. Culoxë rolled his eyes. 

'To change the subject to something less offensive to me.' Culoxë began. 'Have you heard the rumours in camp?' 

Malta crinkled his nose. 'Ahhh... no...' 

Culoxë shook his head. He loved his brother, though he was certain Malta was the most oblivious ner in all of Aman. This news had been spreading so fast around camp that one would not be able to avoid it if they _tried._

But Malta, somehow, had successfully avoided it. 

'Well...', Culoxë began '...it turns out one of the competitors may be a lovechild of Noldor nobility-...' 

'LET ME GUESS, _KYELAERON?!'_ Malta enthusiastically shouted. 'I didn't believe him at first when he said he was a Lord! But then I noticed he looked a lot like Laurë's otorno!' 

'What? Your partner? The one who did the tree thing?' Malta nodded, like a little puppy. 'No hanno not him!' Culoxë shook his head, and wondered if it weren't for him would Malta even know what year it was. 'It is a nís. You know the one that Kyelaeron was hugging once you finished?' 

'Ahh I don't really remember that. He did mention something about an osellë though...' Malta narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. 

'You know, the nís with the long, silvery blonde hair.' Culoxë prodded. 

'Was she Telerin?' Malta questioned. 

'No...' Culoxë sighed in exasperation. 'Actually, the night of the opening ceremony, I recall you commentating on her hair. 'A bird's nest' I believe you called it.' 

'OH YES! _Her!'_ The one who left you mid- dance!' Malta laughed. 

Culoxë rolled his eyes. 'Of course you forget everything else, but remember that! And may I remind you it was her otorno who grabbed her in the middle of the dance.' 

'He was not very good at etiquette. He never called me by my title. Most uncourteous. But in the end I learned to ignore the fact he was ignoring protocol, and we worked well as a team.' 

'How noble of you.' Culoxë laughed internally. He could just imagine the drama his little hanno had caused, between the absent titles and the hair ordeal. 

'So who is this nís supposed to be related to?' Malta really was clueless. 

'Think Malta. A hunter who hailed from Noldor nobility. I'll give you a hint. They were _royal.'_ Culoxë replied. 

Malta racked his brains. 'Princess Írissë?' he guessed. 

Culoxë wanted to smack his head off the ground. 

'NO HANNO! Does she look like Írissë? _No!'_

Malta defended himself. 'Well I be damned if she did not have the same air about her as Princess Írissë.' 

'Would you wager that?' Culoxë decided to use his brother's pride to his advantage. 

'One thousand gold pieces she is Írissë's daughter and not the child of whoever you think.' Malta bet confidently. 

_'Deal!'_ Culoxë agreed all too eagerly. 'You want to guess who my money is on?' 

'OH! I think I know now!' Malta exclaimed. 

'Go on' 

'One of the twins! The youngest of Prince Fëanáro's House. They used to go hunting didn't they?' Malta was so sure of himself it was amusing. 

'Malta, Princes PItyafinwë and Telufinwë were just over two centuries old when they left. A little disturbing for one to have a child _that_ young don't you think?' 

'Well _who_ is it then?' Malta was getting tired of this guessing game. 

'You do not like him. He committed the worst crime you could possibly imagine during the final of his Games. And he did it to our dear cousin.' Culoxë hinted, making the answer quite obvious. 

Malta's eyes went wide. Culoxë saw the exact moment the resemblence between Siofra Aranya and Turcafinwë Tyelkormo clicked in his mind. He knew that his little hanno was raging deep down. Malta knew he had lost the bet. 

'That hair-pulling _bastard!'_ Malta scowled. He had never taken well the fact that his favourite cousin had lost the Games partially because the wild Prince used Laurëfindal's own hair against him. 

And now Tyelkormo had just lost Malta one thousand gold pieces... 

...Or so he thought... 

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

Tyeliër and Mára spent the morning strolling through the city, Tyeliër showing an awestruck Mára the hidden gems of Tirion. 

Both were relieved to have qualified for the second trial. 

Certain bold Tirion citizens dared to beg them for information regarding the parentage of their good friend Siofra Aranya. Mára told them all _exactly_ where to go, putting the nosy civilians in their place, in the most impolite manner possible. Tyeliër simply laughed at both Mára's and the people's antics. 

Finally the two retired to Tyeliër's home house. He made them tea and they sat down for a while. Mára felt a little out of place in the Noldo building. The sofa was too soft, the air too stuffy, the walls too dull. 

Of course Tyeliër simply laughed at this too, commenting on her lack of civility. Mára rolled her eyes and wondered why she bothered talking at all. 

'You know...' Tyeliër began '...the rumour that seems to be everywhere about Siofra?' 

'Which one?' Mára asked, giving her eyes another roll. 'I lost count of the amount of ridiculous questions and theories that were fired at us. Honestly! Perhaps the gift of the Noldor is not knowledge, but story-making and gossip-spreading!' 

'Most of them were complete bullshit.' Tyeliër admitted '...but the one about her being the daughter of Tyelkormo...? She does look a great deal like him, I have always wondered... though when I mentioned her resemblance to Kandāra, when I first joined... well let's just say she made sure I never mentioned Tyelkormo when I could avoid it, ever again!' 

'Oh Please!' Mára shook her head. 'The Tyelkormo theory _was_ the most ridiculous one out there. I _knew_ Siofra's parents, Valar, Siofra and I were always playing together when we were younger! Her Atar and Ammë- and their hound- visited her regularly, and were very kind to me! Then there is Tyelkormo... I never even met him! For all the legend he is he was rarely in the woods! No Meldo, that rumour is not true!' 

'Hang on Melda... do you mean to tell me, that, despite being raised in the Woods, you _never, ever_ laid eyes upon Tyelkormo?' Tyeliër seemed in disbelief. Mára nodded. 

_'HOW?!'_ Tyeliër demanded. 'When I was a child I saw him many times, _here,_ in Tirion! And he was off with the hunters much more than he was here! 

'The only people in the Woods those days, who came and went to and from Tirion regularly, were Siofra's parents. And some smith. And sometimes Ambarussa.’ Mára replied. 

'Siofra's parents...' Tyeliër whispered, coming to a realisation. 'Melda?...' he began, voice unusually uncertain and anxious '...What were Siofra's parents' names?' 

'Do you _ever_ listen?' Mára responded, exasperated. 'Siofra has said a million times if she has said once that she does not know her parents' names! And she..-' 

'And she always begs the Elders to divulge the names... and they never do... _Why?'_ Pieces were clicking together in Tyeliër's mind. 

'I don't know why! Perhaps the Elders themselves find it painful to talk about, you know, the flight and everything. Siofra's parents being unidentified proves nothing!' Mára thought Tyeliër was reading too deeply into this silly rumour. 

Tyeliër stood up, and began pacing, deep in thought. _The tattoo... the resemblance... the gift with animals... it is all too similar to be a mere coincidence...how did I not see it before?!_

An idea of verifying the truth popped into Tyeliër's mind. His head sprang up. 'Melda?' he asked. 

_'What!?'_ Mára was not impressed with his epiphany. 

'You say you never saw Tyelkormo. I find that hard to believe. If I showed you a picture of him, would you know if you had seen him before?' 

'I never have seen him before, but yes I will look at the damn picture, if only to end this madness!' 

Tyeliër smirked. He was certain of himself, certain he was about to prove her wrong. 

He led her to his old bedroom. She gazed around, inspecting his little possessions and laughing at the variety of outfits in his wardrobe. He shook his head in amusement at her obliviousness to what many called 'the norm'. 

After much rustling in one of his cupboards, he finally found what he was looking for. He withdrew a little paper booklet, perfectly preserved, kept pristine after half a millennium. 

'What is that?' Mára asked, curious, as curious as Tyeliër was to find out the truth. 

'This, Melda, is a _programme._ It is a little book a spectator can buy on entrance to an event, such as a concert, or in this case, the Games. I bought this programme when I was a little boy. It was the final of Tyelkormo's Games, the one he and Írissë won. To the eyes of a child, like me at the time, they were heroes, idols, _Vala_ almost. I was completely awestruck by the way they fought. Their agility and resilience, so unconstrained and free. Their personalities, insanely determined and stubborn and fierce. They were different to the Warriors, different to the only world I knew at the time, one full of rules and appearances. They showed me an escape, Melda, and that is when I realised my dream, to become a follower of Oromë.' 

Mára smiled at the fond tale. Tyeliër slowly flicked through the pages. 

Finally, he stopped on a page. He showed it to Mára. 'Recognise him?' He pointed to the sketch of Tyelkormo and Írissë, posing as the finalists from Oromë's followers. 

Mára nearly fell over in shock... in _double shock._

'OH MY ERU! OH MY ERU! OH MY ERU! IMPOSSIBLE... NO... NO WAY!' 

Tyeliër smirked in victory. 'So I take it you _have_ seen Tyelkormo before... he _is_ Siofra's Atar, is he not?' 

'NO NO NO...I DO NOT BELIEVE IT!' Mára cupped her nose and mouth with her hands and shook her head. 

'So you haven't seen Tyelkormo before? Give in, Melda, admit you were wrong!' Tyeliër's tone was smug. 

'NO MELDO I KNOW! I KNOW YOU WERE RIGHT! IT IS NOT THAT...' Mára was pacing the floor at this stage. 

Tyeliër raised an eyebrow. 'Then whatever is the matter? Mára... MÁRA! Calm down! It can't be that bad!' 

Mára closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, composing herself before turning to face Tyeliër, about to shock him with a truth he had not seen coming. 

'Írissë...' she whispered, pointing to the sketch of the Princess in the programme. Tyeliër's eyes followed to where she pointed. 

'Yes Melda that is Írissë. What about her?' Tyelië crinkled his brow. 

Mára took a deep breath. 

'That is Siofra's _mother.'_

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

Vayeyla shut the door of her shop behind her and breathed a sigh of relief. 

She had not had the chance to tell a single soul yet about the long-lost nephew she had only just discovered. Not a soul! 

And yet, no sooner had she left the arena after the Trial and strangers were approaching her and congratulating her. 

They _knew..._

She had presumed a few would know, after all, she had learned of Kyelaeron's existence from a ner who heard a rumour... 

But it seemed that Kyelaeron's likeness to his father, and talents of his mother, were a dead giveaway, to those not already in on the 'secret'. 

Vayeyla had gone out this morning for a short walk. _No more than twenty minutes she had told herself. I need to be back to open the shop..._

Two hours later she returned. Her face more tired than her feet, from all the fake smiles and 'thank-yous' she had to say to random people. 

And then there was the rumour about Aranya... Vayeyla had to admit the nís did indeed look much like Tyelkormo, though she had not realised before... 

Vayeyla did not mind who Aranya was related to- she was family to Kyelaeron, when he had none, and that was enough to make Vayeyla accept her as her own. She would make sure to give that nís the biggest hug, welcome, and thank you when she finally met her. 

Vayeyla had forgotten what it was like to have all eyes on you, the centre of attention. It reminded her of her brother's Games. However, the publicity did not seem so intruding back then. She was used to attention back then. 

Now all she wanted to do was sit down with a book and a nice cup of hangover tea, for Vayeyla had celebrated as hard as her nephew had, last night. 

She was about to sit down, when a knock sounded on the door. A cloaked figure, a nís judging by the shape, stood there, face covered. 

Vayeyla sighed. Just when she had a moments peace a customer decides to walk in... _typical._

Drawing another fake smile, ignoring the throbbing in her head- from the mirúvorë or the 'Congratulations', she did not know- she strolled over to the door, opening it for business. 

'Welcome.' She greeted the customer. 'How may I help you today?' 

The hooded nís closed the door behind her, while replying 'One of your hangover teas would be _wonderful.'_

Vayeyla gasped, a beam broke out on her face as the nís lowered her hood. 

'AMÁRIË!' she exclaimed, rushing over to the Vanya nís and giving her a fierce hug, which was returned. The two níssi laughed. 

'I missed you, old friend.' Amárië smiled, after the two broke apart. 

'And I you!' Vayeyla smiled. 

'Never did I think I would see the day you would be in a public place _without_ wearing half of your family's jewellery box!' Amárië teased, and for a moment it was as though nothing had changed since the Years of the Trees, their glory days, the days they did not know were so precious until they were gone. 

'Would you believe I sold my family jewels, for this place!' Vayeyla waved her hands around, laughing but yet quite proud of all she had achieved on her own. 

'Who are you and what have you done with the Vayeyla I knew!' Amárië giggled. 

'A lot has changed since we last saw each other, I am afraid.' Vayeyla hated to kill the happy mood, but needed acknowledge the change of times before it became an elephant in the room. 

'Indeed.' Amárië sounded lost, hand absently going to her chest. 'Vayeyla...I... I am sorry I did not keep in touch. It's just... I.. I needed time after, well, after you-know-what. I returned to Valmar and the thought of returning here, it just reminded me of...' 

'You have nothing to be sorry for. We all needed time to heal, and unlike you, I did not lose my _one._ I am just glad you are here now.' Amárië had tears in her eyes already. Vayeyla gave her another motherly hug. 

When she had composed herself, Amárië resorted back to teasing. 'But, Vayeyla... you did lose your _one! '_

Vayeyla sighed in exasperation. Over half a millennia was still not long enough to make people forget the one-sided romance she had played little to no part in. 'Look, if this is about Laurëfindal, just note that I can have you barred from my shop!' 

'Ha! As if! I will not tease however. Your brother gave you enough grief back in the day.' 

'He would tease me for rejecting Laurë, and yet, if I had courted him, I am sure he would have done everything within his power to act as a third wheel from waxing to waning to waxing.' Vayeyla rolled her eyes. 

'Speaking of your brother... Amárië began '...was that ner, at the trial?' 

'Yes, that was my nephew, Kyelaeron.' Vayeyla nodded. 'Did you hear the rumours, or was it the resemblance?' 

'Both.' Amárië admitted. 'I don't mean to pry, but did you know?' 

'Know my brother had a son who dwelt with the hunters?' Amárië nodded. 'No, not until five years ago. A rumour told me. I met him however, not a week ago. He is now my pride and joy!' Vayeyla smiled. 

'So Elenā...?' Amárië questioned, eyes hopeful, hoping to be reunited with her friend from years back. 

Vayeyla shook her head. 'She left. I believe she was looking for hanno. It turns out she did not leave him by choice.' 

Amárië sighed sadly. 'I always did wonder about that. It was so out of character for Elenā to run away. It was so heartbreaking for both of them I am sure.' Amárië, as always, was a hopeless romantic. 

'I will tell you all about it once I have my hands on a bottle of the strongest mirúvorë, I promise.' Vayeyla told her. 

'Only if you wish. I do not want to be nosing in on your family drama.' Amárië assured her. 

'No, you are not 'nosing', I could do with a practice run before I break the truth to Kyelaeron.' How Vayeyla dreaded that day. 'Speaking of family drama, Amarie, what do you make of the rumours about the huntress who resembles Tyelkormo so much some are going as far as to call her a lost princess.' Vayeyla did not mention the close relationship between Aranya and Kyelaeron, she wanted an unfiltered, uncensored opinion. 

Amarie shrugged. 'It's very possible that rumour is true. However, some of my people are whispering other things about that nís. I think what they are saying is nonsense, and if any theory is true it is the 'daughter of Tyelkormo' one. However, they do have some evidence.' 

'What other theories are out there?' Vayelya's curiosity got the better of her. 

Amarie divulged what she knew. 'I will not waste your time with the completely idiotic ones, with absolutely no proof to them at all. But the one that stands out- other than the daughter one- is that she is Míriel re-embodied. 

'Really?' Vayeyla scrunched her nose. _'That's_ the best alternative?' She did not believe this theory in the slightest. 

'I know it sounds _very_ far fetched.' Amárië admitted. 'But you know how Lady Indis sat with her brother in the Vanyar royal box yesterday?' Vayeyla nodded. 'Well, apparently when she saw the nís... Siofra isn't it?...When she saw her, she gasped 'Míriel!' out loud.' 

'And that's what people are placing their money on?' Vayeyla was completely skeptical. For all she knew, Indis may have just been commenting on the similarities of the hair colour. Also, Míriel refused re-embodiment at a time her son and all of her family were here, on these shores. Why would she accept it now? 

'Well, that theory is not as bad as the 'daughter of Írissë' one.' Amárië commented. 

'Are you serious?' Vayeyla could not believe the stupidity of some. 'She looks nothing like Írissë!' 

'She carries a bow just like the one Írissë once had.' Amárië stated. 

'Oh alright, so if I got myself a silver bow I might be Írissë's daughter too?' Vayeyla shook her head at the madness of it all. 

Amárië laughed and answered 'I told you none of the theories are as convincing as the 'daughter of Tyelkormo' one.' 

'You are right there.' Vayeyla sighed. 'I ask because Siofra Aranya is Kyelaeron's osellë. From what he told me, she seems to have no idea of the identity of her parents. I admit the resemblance between her and Tyelkormo escaped me until I heard the rumours myself. I just hope the people do not hurt her. Words can cut one as easily as a knife, especially one who has grown up in ignorance of society her whole life.' 

Amarie's expression darkened. 'I would worry about her getting hurt, not by words, but by sticks and stones... if you get my meaning.' 

Vayelya's eyes opened wide. 'You don't think...would people really go _that_ far? No matter who her parents are, she is innocent!' 

'I think when grief takes over, one is capable of anything.' Amárië gazed at the floor. 

'She will be protected.' Vayeyla assured, more to herself than anyone else. 'Oromë and Vána would never allow it, she is under their protection.' 

'True.' Amárië realised, brightening a little. 'So... otorno and osellë? I saw Kyelaeron and Siofra embracing after the trial, and I wondered... _what was the relationship there?...'_

Vayeyla shook her head and laughed. No doubt Amárië had hoped the two would kiss, or perhaps a proposal, or anything romantic at all. Her dear friend really would see romantic energy between a rock and a twig. 

'Ever the hopeless romantic, Amárië!' Vayeyla giggled. 'No doubt you are planning their wedding already- just in case!' 

'No no, the only wedding other than my own I am planning is yours and Laurë's, when the time comes!' 

Vayeyla gave her a playful smack. 

SsSSsSsSSsSSsSssSssSSsSSsSS 

_The Void, where time is irrelevant..._

_Dark, cold, empty, Pityo, fated, blank, nothing, Void, dark, space..._

_My name is Pityafinwë Ambarussa..._

_My brothers...Owww!_

_Darkness, numb, boredom, blackness, light..._

_Wait... light?_

Pityo's little word game was cut short. A blinding white light swept in and surrounded him, burning his eyes, so used to the dark they were by now. He felt _...not cold, not burning...warmth._ He felt warmth for the first time since he ended up in this place. 

He was able to see himself now too. 

He gazed around. This new place was as empty as the void, and yet, he could see his body... well its ghostly form that is. This image alone was the most interesting thing Pityo had seen in centuries. 

He wondered why he was here. 

'PITYAFINWË UMBARTO AMBARUSSA.' A voice boomed, echoing around him, slightly deafening him, so unused to noise he had become. Pityo could not see the speaker, but the voice was melodic, even more melodic than... _OWWW!..._ more melodic than someone he used to know. 

Pityo knew who was speaking, though he did not know how. 'Eru Ilúvatar, The One' he whispered, to himself more than anyone. 

'Correct.' the voice sang back. 'Welcome to my _home.'_

_Home?_ ... Pityo remembered what a home was... he used to have one... 

_And then I left it..._

'I see you are remembering tidbits of who you once were, the life you once had, the people you once loved.' Eru commented. 

'Y... _yes_ .' Pityo's voice was hoarse. He had not been able to talk before, in the dark... 'But it hurts to remember the people.' 

'I saw that.' remarked Eru. 'It did not just hurt. It was excruciating. One is not meant to remember _anything_ in the Void. And yet you did, Pityafinwë, somehow you managed.' 

'How... how did I end up in the Void?' Pityo asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. 

'Would you like to remember?' Eru asked. 

'Will it hurt?' Pityo almost winced, recalling the hurt he previously experienced. 

'Most definitely. It will be the most painful thing you have endured, and you my child have been no stranger to pain.' Eru answered honestly. 'But, you are already dead, and have proven yourself more than capable pulling on through agony.' 

Pityo did not have to think about it too long. Anything was better than this sort of existence, having nothing but a few names and words to remind you who you are. 

And a son of Fëanáro did not know when to shy away from something... 

'Very well.' Pityo nodded. 'I wish to remember.' 

Pityo could hear the smirk in Eru's voice. 'Just remember, you _asked_ for this...' 

And then the pain hit. 

**_AAAAGGGHHHHAHHHAGGHHHHH!_ **

Pityo screamed in agony as excruciating memories flooded into his mind... 

He recovered every memory he ever had, certain moments flashing a little more painfully and lasting longer in the forefront of his mind than others... 

His earliest memory... he and Telvo lying in a cot, laughing... 

**_HAAAAHAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHAAAA!_ **

His last memory...He and Telvo screaming and fire and smoke surrounding him... 

**_NOOOO! AGGGHHHAAAA TELV- AGGGGHH!_ **

His mother, her green eyes and soft smile and gifted hands. 

**_I'M SORRY! Amm- AAAGGGGGGHHHHH!_ **

His father, and his brilliance and madness and pride. 

_**ATAR! HOW COULD YOU BUR-...AAAAHHHH!** _

His brothers... all of them so different and unique, yet each of them willing to die for the other... 

_**WHY DID YOU ALL B- NOOOO AAAAAHHH STOP!** _

Telvo... he felt the bond he had with his twin in his mind, but now it was ripped, _torn_ to shreds apart, in a most painful and sudden manner. 

_**I AM SORRY!... YOU SUFFERED MORE!...YOU- NOOOOOOOOO! ERU STOP! AAAGGHHH!** _

Tirion... his _home._

_IT HURTS!_

Formenos... not quite home, but not the worst place to be either... 

_**OOOOOOWWWWWWW !** _

His childhood. The mischief and pranks and his Ammë's scolding, his Atar's rage, his brothers' annoyance. 

_**IT IS TOO MUCH! I CAN'T I... AAAGHH!** _

Alqualondë... the screams... the fighting... the stench of saltwater and death mingled together. 

_**NOOOOOO! ERU PLEASE NOOOO NOOO NOOOOOOOOO!** _

Oromë's Woods...his little niece knocking him over with her hug, him falling onto Telvo, who in turn fell into the lake. 

**_ARANYAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHAAAA_ **

The voyage to Endor... the crashing waves and thunderous skies, Ossë and Uinen taking their rage out on their fleet, the sea sickness...the fear of drowning. 

**_AAAAAAHHHGGGGGHH HELP ME ERU!_ **

His father speaking, his voice harsh and proud. He and his brothers echoing the words... swearing... swearing away their own freedom, their own souls... 

...to the Everlasting Darkness... 

The Oath... he recalled _The Oath..._

The pain stopped. He had remembered _everything._

That did not stop him from screaming, this time in anger. 

**'AAAAAAAHHHGGGGGHHHHH THAT STUPID, FUCKING OATH! I SPENT ALL THOSE YEARS IN OBLIVION, JUST BECAUSE OF A FEW ILL PLACED SOUNDS AND SYLLBELS? I SWEAR TO YOU ERU, THAT WAS A CRUEL-...'**

**'I CAN SEND YOU BACK TO OBLIVION AS EASILY AS I TOOK YOU OUT OF IT!'** Eru by no means had tolerance for such temper in his presence. **'REMEMBER _WHO_ YOU SPEAK TO, SON OF FËANÁRO. TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT YOU SAID AND DID! YOU GOT WHAT YOU DESERVED! CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY FOR EVEN HAVING SLIMMER OF HOPE OF RE-EMBODIMENT ! **

That shut Pityo up. 

'Re-embodiment...?' Pityo failed miserably to conceal the hope in his voice. 

'You heard me.' Eru replied. 

'You would allow me back...? To fulfil the oath with my father and brothers...?' 

'You have a role to play in the music, Umbarto. Fated indeed you were, but not to die in the shipburning.' Eru spoke in riddles. 

Pityo was intrigued. 'So, you would simply release me? No conditions?' It seemed too good to be true. 

'What if I told you I would let you back, _only_ if you _did not_ pursue the oath?' Of course Eru would say such. Of course there was a price. 

Pityo was silent. He thought for a moment. He reached into the back of his mind. The oath was still there. He could feel its tug...it was stronger... much stronger than it had been before...would he be able ignore it? He was not so sure. If it was only getting stronger... how long would it be until he was willing to kill for it, die for it... return to the _Void_ for it? 

Then there was his father and his brothers... If they were risking their lives for the oath could he really step aside? Could he allow them into danger while he looked on from a safe distance? Would he be able to let them die, knowing the enternal darkness they would face... and not even try to redeem their souls? 

That sentiment alone answered Eru's question. 

'No.' Pityo replied, voice strong. 'I would do anything to get myself out of that horrible place, anything for even the slightest chance of re-embodiment. But I would not forsake the oath. Yes, it was a mistake to swear it, but, as you said, I must take responsibility for my actions. I must do all I can to fulfil the oath and reclaim the silmarils. Not for myself, but for my father and my brothers. I cannot return to Arda and simply leave the oath be, knowing the dark fate that awaits my family should their deed fail.' 

Pityo raised his head, despite the dread of the doom he feared his words would bring. A long silence stretched. Far too long for Pityo's comfort. 

_Finally_ Eru spoke. 'Very well.' 

Pityo wholeheartedly believed that was it. That was his chance, gone. What else could he have done? Had he lied Eru would have known. Had he even tried for a second to ignore the oath he knew he would fail. He could not forsake his brothers, especially Telvo... _I'm sorry Telvo... like before, I wanted to get out, not for me but for you..._

Eru interrupted his musings of despair. 'I think miscommunication has occurred, my child. Your thoughts fear returning to the darkness. That is not where your destiny lies... _for now...'_

Pityo's eyes went wide. 'You...you are sending me back to Arda?' 

'I thought I had made that clear.' Eru replied. 'You passed the first test. You were honest. You felt the pull of the oath and the need to protect your brothers, and you knew you could not abandon them and go against the word you gave long ago. Though you feared the truth would send you back to the void, you were honest with me... The oath has not yet taken your honour from you. Shame... some of your brothers were not so strong...' 

'What... what do you mean?' Pityo's worry grew again. 'My father and brothers.. they are all alive are they not?... None of them are suffering now as I suffered, alone in the darkness... are they Eru?' 

Hesitation. 

'When you reach the Halls, tell Námo why you have returned. I will ensure he takes your fëa in. I would then take a trip to Vairë's tapestries... Much has happened while you were in the dark.' 

That did not answer Pityo's question. Nor did it ease his anxiety. 'Please Eru! Just tell me are they alive!? Please!' 

'Impatient child, as many of your House are...' Eru remarked. 'Nevertheless, I will tell you that your brothers all live...though changed they are... 

That was not reassuring. But at least his brothers were alive. As was his father... 

_Wait... Eru said nothing of Atar..._

Somehow, Pityo knew the answer to his next question before he even asked it. 'Atar is dead, isn't he? He is in the Void... he was there while I was there!' 

Eru ignored his question. 'Remember, with your brothers...not all changes are visible. Give Námo my regards', was all the One gave away, before his voice faded to nothing and Pityo found himself surrounded by blinding colours... _no...not colours... music._

It wove it's way around him, healing hurts to his fëa he had long forgotten. 

It surrounded him... 

...Consumed him... 

... Fulfilled his very fëa... 

...It swept him away to another place... 

...The Halls of Mandos to be precise. 

ssSssssSssSssssSsSsSSsSsSssSsSSssS 

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

Huan made his way through the streets of Tirion, ignoring the stares and looks of awe, growling at anyone who dared to make to touch him. 

Usually he was not so unfriendly. Wild and fierce, sure, but not usually so grumpy as to make a toddler cry. 

_Tyelko probably would have laughed at that..._

He shook away the memories of his dearest friend. Shook away the guilt of his betrayal. 

It was hard for Huan. Although he knew he did the right thing, a hound's duty was to his master. 

_Tyelko never let me call him ‘Master’...he said I was free to do as I wished. I wished to protect him and stay at his side, loyal to him...always..._

_But I couldn't let him take Lúthien and enslave her to him... just because he was in grief over what happened to Írissë..._

_He wanted revenge...He wanted to take Thingol's pride and joy and make her suffer the way Írissë did at the hands of one who dwelt in Thingol's land..._

_The old Tyelko would have wanted me to stop him..._

A thought occurred to Huan. He recalled the tapestries, verifying the thought. 

_Tyelkormo does not know Írissë is dead..._

He whined loudly, mourning the nís Tyelko loved. Huan loved her too. She was brave and fierce and yet so loving to those she loved. Like Tyelko and... and _Siofra._

Aranya...the reason he was prowling the streets. 

He had slipped away after the trial. Kyelaeron's little stunt had taken eyes off him momentarily, and for that Huan was glad. 

Siofra did not notice he was gone until it was too late, so caught up she was in watching for and then celebrating with her otorno. 

Huan felt a little guilty for leaving her, she had been left alone too many times. But he also _needed_ to see Oromë, who was almost a father to Huan. His relationship was different with Oromë than what it was with Tyelko, the latter being more of a brother than the former. 

Needless to say, their reunion had resulted in many whines and suspiciously wet eyes, from both Vala and hound. 

Oromë, after much catching up, had given Huan a duty. He need not have asked, Huan was thinking of doing such already. 

He was to watch over Aranya. Protect her, from the whispers and fear and conspiracies the people already spread like wildfire. Huan was to make sure any fear turned to violence did not harm the daughter of his master. 

_No... she is not the daughter of my Master anymore... she **is** my Master now... _

And so, after snapping at a ner he saw whispering suspiciously to a nís on the street, and growling at no less than ten other elves after that, Huan made his way to the encampment of the hunters. 

It was time to meet his new Master. 

_No...not master..._ Huan heard an adolescent Tyelko's words echo in his head, haunting him. 

_...Friend..._

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

Aranya _loved_ the encampment of the hunters. 

She had a whole tent to herself! _'Tent?'_ she had said when they arrived, to the nís showing them around. _'This is the size of a palace!'_ she exclaimed before spinning like a dancer in a brand new dress, and diving onto the luxurious mattress, the softness of which she had not thought possible. 

Needless to say, she received a strange look from the nís. 

Kyelaeron's tent was right next to hers. Aranya thought this was hilarious. _'It's like we are city people!_ She had exclaimed. _'Next door neighbours! I can come over to your house for tea and visits and such!'_

_'Anya you do realise this is not what a city house looks like?'_ Kyelaeron had amusedly replied. Anya was not really listening however. 

Then there was the baths. For one used to bathing in lakes and streams their whole life, they really were a wonder to behold, regardless of the fact she has caused a bit of a situation when she experimented with every soap and ointment and oil possible, causing a strange chemical reaction, which left her running out of the bath screaming and completely naked. The Maiar in charge of maintaining camp were not too happy with her to say the least. 

But there was one problem with camp. 

Despite the fact that she was fascinated by the comfort of the bed, it was _too soft._ The first night in camp she stuck it out in the bed, and instantly regretted it the next morning. She had to stay in a cobra pose for over an hour to undo the tension. 

And so, from that day onward she slept on the floor, as she had her whole life. 

The day after the First trial she slept longer than usual. It was after dawn by the time she woke. 

She would have slept even longer... but something was _licking_ her face. 

'Huh?' she muttered to herself, before a familiar bark answered 'Woof!' 

Siofra sprang up. _'HUAN!'_ She exclaimed, before proceeding to half strangle the poor hound with a mad hug. _'I thought you had left me!'_

Huan almost cried at the relief in her voice 

_'No Aranya, I went to see Oromë, that is all...'_

_'Well don't leave without telling me again you silly boy!'_ Huan would have scolded her for name-calling, but she was scratching his favourite spot, just behind his ears _...She remembers..._

Huan decided to be upfront and straight out told Aranya what he was here for. 

_'Aranya... I ... I would like to stay by your side. If you would have me...?'_ Huan found it difficult to piece together the exact words, but Aranya understood. 

_'HUAN!'_ she exclaimed, genuinely surprised but delighted. _'You want to look after me!?'_

_‘Yes.'_ Huan nodded. _'I want you to be my Master...'_

_'NO!'_ Siofra shouted, and for a moment Huan thought she rejected him. His ears drooped. 

_'Huan!'_ Siofra scolded again. _'Did you not listen to a word Atto ever said! He made it clear you were his friend, he was not your Master! Actually I believe it was best friend. Although I was not allowed to say that to Ammë or uncle Curvo... or Ambarussa for that matter!'_

Huan sniggered at what a scolding/teasing Tyelkormo would have received from his family had he openly admitted his best friend was in fact, a dog... 

Huan shrugged. _'Sorry Master'_ he replied- accidentally on purpose. 

Siofra gave him a whack on the nose. 

_'I would be delighted to have your company, Huan.' Aranya proceeded to hug him again. Huan wagged his tail._

_'Thank you... friend.'_

_'Huan?'_ Aranya began nervously. 

_'No.'_ Huan knew what she was about to ask. He could not answer. Not only did he not want to, but he had strict orders from Oromë. 

_'HUAN PLEASE! You worry me! You not answering makes my heart pound tenfold.'_ She stood up and began pacing. _'How did you and Atto get separated? Are he and Ammë together? Are they okay? Are...are... if you are here does that mean... are Atto and Ammë...'_ She scrunched her face. _'THEY ARE NOT DEAD ARE THEY?'_ She shouted very fast, as if she deemed the words unspeakable and more hurtful the longer she spent uttering them. 

Oromë had told Huan what to say if such a question was asked. 

_'They are both safe, Aranya. I am here because I died. Lord Námo released me for the Games. They love you and miss you.'_

Huan spoke half truths. He did not add _'Your Ammë is safe, in Námos keeping',_ nor did he say _'I died after I betrayed your Atar.'_ And he certainly did not mention _'Your Atar loved and missed you so much it destroyed him...'_

Aranya looked at him strangely. It was as if she did not believe him, but wanted to. 

Huan stared back, feigning a virtuous demeanour successfully, for Aranya simply nodded her head, and muttered _'That is good'_ before leaning against the wall and hugging her knees to her chest. 

Huan was by her side instantly, offering comfort. He knew that look, that expression, that blank stare and silence. He had witnessed it many nights in Himlad, and then in Nargothrond. 

She _missed_ them. 

Siofra absently raked her hands through his fur and leaned her head against Huan. They remained like so in silence for a time. 

When Siofra was ready, cheeks streaked with a few stray tears, she began to laugh. 

Huan shot her a questioning look. 

'Huan, would you like to be my bed? You are far comfier than the floor and yet not as painfully soft as that mattress over there!' she giggled. 

Huan growled in disagreement. Aranya only laughed more. 

_'Come! let us go visit the ner next door! You can apologise to him for NOT helping him in the Trial yesterday!'_

_'Well if I had helped him he would not have got a standing ovation, Aranya.'_ Huan cheekily wagged his tail in response. 

_'True.'_ Aranya replied. _'But he would have been out of bed by now if you had helped him! The whole controlling the trees takes effort! I hope will be recovered enough for the second trial!'_

_'Perhaps if the two of you stopped drinking like fish every night you would both get up faster?!'_ Huan suggested smugly. Aranya gave him a playful cuff on the head. 

The two walked a few paces to Kyelaeron's tent. Another worry arose in Huan's mind. 

Aranya was going to introduce him as _Huan_ , her _Atar's_ hound. 

Anyone who knew anything about relatively recent history would know _Huan_ was _Tyelkormo's_ hound. 

For one as clever as Kyelaeron (Oromë had told Huan to be wary of the Otorno's quick wit.) It would not be too difficult to piece two and two together. 

_I suppose, if he did figure it out, I could scare him from revealing anything to Siofra... she cannot find out..._

_If Carcharoth feared me, how hard will it be to scare a ner who has not yet seen eight hundred years?_

_Also, I recall Tyelko telling me years ago that I must scare the living daylights out of any ner who dared so much as speak to his little girl, once she reached her adolescence..._

_Does that count if they are otorno and osellë, and have known each other since childhood? Huan wondered. He shrugged. He never really understood Tyelkormo's irrational fear of adolescent neri. Nor why the fear only seemed to emerge once he was a father...I suppose it does count. He is a ner, she has reached her adolescence... I need to scare him anyway, because of the secret. This other command justifies me even more..._

Huan wagged his tail. Playing the role of overprotective dog was going to be _fun._

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

Kyelaeron was _exhausted._

The Trial had taken its toll. From running to the plank tunnel and, of course, the connection he made with the trees, he had over exerted himself just a little. 

The late night celebrations and more of the Tirion liquor certainly had not helped his case either. 

However, he had time before the next trial. Time to recover. 

What better way to rest than a deep, long sleep in a bed soft as a cloud? 

And so, he had gladly fallen into the bed, his sleep all the sweeter due to the fact he earned it. 

He slept so soundly that his eyes were half shut. 

However, his beauty sleep was cut short, by a certain someone _jumping_ on his bed. 

'KYELAERON! KYELAERON! WAKE UP ITS ALMOST TWO HOURS AFTER DAWN! ' Siofra yelled between bounces, as if missing the dawn was a mortal sin. _'Wooooaahhh waahhhooo!_ Who knew beds could be so fun!? Mine won't go to waste now- I can practice my backflips!' 

'Mmmm... Anya...please _shut up!'_ Kyelaeron proceeded to turn onto his back, pulling the covers over his head, before adding 'And don't do any backflips.' The last thing Anya needed right now was to break her arm or leg... or neck for that matter. 

'I WILL KEEP JUMPING 'TILL YOU GET UP!' 

She began performing sit jumps. 

'I...can live... with that.' Kyelaeron murmured. He was in the waking sort of weariness, where one could think of nothing worse than getting out of bed. Kyelaeron was sure he could get back to sleep...he began drifting off... _so sleepy._

And then Anya lost her footing. 

'AAAGGHHAAA!' She desperately tried to save herself from falling. 

'OOOOOOFF!' Kyelaeron's torso broke her fall. 

'Oh my Eru! Kye are you alright? I am so so sorry, can you breathe? Are you alive? Are you injured? OH NO you haven't moved! CAN YOU MOVE!?' The worry of injury for the Games increased his osellë's panic tenfold. 

_'Ann...nn...Yaaaa!'_ Kyelaeron moaned, half suffocated from her hair in his face. 'C..cann...you...gg...gettt...oo..ooff...mmme.. ppplllease?' He gasped. 

'Oh _SHIT!_ I forgot, sorry!' Anya jumped off him so fast she fell out of the bed and onto the floor with a 'thump'. 

Kyelaeron, most definitely awake now, slowly sat up. He was not hurt, but his already sore abdomen could have done without this. Nevertheless, he feigned a smug look as Siofra slowly peeped up from the floor, almost afraid to face what sort of scolding or teasing he was about to give. 

All he did was shake his head and laugh, even though it hurt a little. 'You _idiot!'_ was the only word he could think of to describe Anya in the moment. He received a playfull cuff on the head in return. 

'I blame the bed. It is uneven.' No sooner had he proven he was unharmed by Siofra's little accident before she was already placing the blame on something else. 

'It will be uneven when one constantly _bounces_ on it osellë' he teased. 'And you are biased against beds, so I cannot accept your testament!' 

'Some of us are not born for a life of such luxuries, _My Lord.'_ Of course, Aranya found a goldmine of teasing material from the fact that Kyelaeron _enjoyed_ sleeping in his soft bed. 

Kyelaeron rolled his eyes. This joke was getting old. But Anya did not seem to think so. He stepped out of bed and stretched. 

Aranya looked strangely smug. 

'Anyway, dearest otorno, there is someone here I want you to meet.' 

_'WOOF WOOF!'_ sounded behind him. 

Kyelaeron nearly jumped, as he turned and saw a huge hound hovering over him menacingly. 

'An..Anyaaa...' He whispered nervously. He threw her a look. 'Not again!' 

In their youth, Aranya had developed a strange habit of befriending wild, _dangerous_ beasts and introducing them to Kyelaeron. There was the wolf incident, the tiger cub incident _and_ the panther incident, to name but a few. 

Because Kyelaeron could not converse with the animals, they were not so friendly with him as they were with Aranya. In fact, the only thing preventing them from making him their next meal was, in fact, Aranya. Kyelaeron used to be terrified to say the least. Aranya would laugh and call her otorno a scaredy cat for shaking like a leaf. 

Kyelaeron had to muster every ounce of courage he had now, to conceal the fear that rose within him at the sight of this _HUGE_ hound, who was eying him with... _not_ the friendliest of expressions. 

Although there were many hounds in the woods he called home, Kyelaeron was never overly fond of dogs. He found them either too clingy or too snappy, and there had been an _incident_ in his youth, involving an Aranya prank gone wrong... 

Aranya, of course, did not comprehend his indifference to dogs in the slightest. _'We should get a puppy!'_ she had exclaimed one day. _'And we can take it on hunts, and feed it, and go for runs with it and mind it-..._

_'My hands are full doing all of that... for you!'_ Kyelaeron had teased her. She did not speak to him for the rest of the day. 

Kyelaeron realised just _who_ he was face to face with this very moment... 

_This must be Huan, Tyelkormo's legendary hound..._ he thought to himself. He had of course heard how his osellë had used her gift in animal tongue to finish first in the Trial, though in little detail, so busy he and Aranya were celebrating- in other words, getting completely pissed off their heads drunk. 

Aranya had failed to mention Huan was now her new pet. 

Aranya laughed at his exasperated expression, not at all noticing the menacing gleam in Huan's eye. 

'Otorno, meet _Huan,_ my _Atar's_ hound.' 

Kyelaeron did a double take. 

He wondered had he heard her correctly. Perhaps last night's mirúvorë was affecting his hearing? 

_'W..wh..whose_ hound?' he barely managed to gasp out. 

'My _ATAR'S!'_ Aranya did not like having to repeat herself. Nevertheless, she continued on to give a long-winded explanation of the situation. 'Huan here left with him, across the sea, but then Huan died, and was re-embodied for the Trial. I have known Huan since I was a little girl, he is the hound I told you about, remember otorno? I used to race Atar on his back! And now he is going to stay with me! We have a dog now otorno!' 

Kyelaeron's head felt light and dizzy. 

A million facts pieced themselves together in his mind. 

_The tattoo..._

_The reluctance of the hunters to mention Anya's parents..._

_Nerdanel invited her into her home..._

_Aranya's Atar was able to talk to animals..._

_Oromë's soft spot for Aranya..._

_Tanwë calling her Tyelko..._

_Her Atar followed Fëanáro and her Ammë Nolofinwë..._

_Oromë being against the Games from the get-go..._

_Ambarussa spoiling her..._

_The smith Uncle..._

_The outstanding talent for hunting..._

_Vána sending me to Vayelya and Anya to Mahtan..._

Kyelaeron shut his eyes tight, straining his memory, thinking way back to that day when he was a little boy, forcing the blurry image of the Prince and Princess to become clear. 

His eyes opened wide. 

_Aranya is the spitting image of Tyelkormo._

_Írissë and Tyelkormo were most definately romantically together..._

_That happened...over five centuries ago... Aranya would have only been an infant baby..._

_‘Your son is not the only child of forbidden love in these woods’... I understand now..._

_Aranya is oblivious to the truth... Valar she barely knew any of the royals not a week ago!_

_I have to tell her. . she is my osellë... I know how she feels, not knowing who her family is... I cannot hide the truth from her!..._

Kyelaeron braced himself. This was not going to be easy. Aranya never took shock well. And this was not the best time either, just days from the second Trial. 

The truth would hurt, but she would not forgive him for a very long time if he kept the this from her, even if it was only until the end of the Games. 

And he would never forgive himself for hurting her like so... 

'Kyelaeron? Are you alright!? You look as though you have seen a ghost!' Aranya asked, not really concerned, still as giddy as ever. 

_You have no idea osellë..._

'Aranya...' he began, solemnly, causing his osellë's smile to drop. She knew that tone never meant good news. 'Huan was the hound of-...' 

**_'GGGGRRRRRRGRRRRRRR!'_ **

Before he could answer, he found himself pinned to the ground, eye to eye with a furious canine, the weight on top of him significantly heavier than Aranya had been mere minutes ago. 

What a chaotic morning this had turned out to be... 

Huan growled, and Kyelaeron knew that if he wished to keep his face handsome, he ought to keep his mouth _shut._

So instead of telling Aranya with words, Kyelaeron attempted to use his mind. 

_Aranya... Huan is-..._

Huan promptly forced all his weight down on Kyelaeron's body, distracting him from his osanwë, cutting him off yet again. The message was clear. Huan _knew_ when he was speaking with his mind, could understand every word... it was very violating to say the least. 

If Aranya heard his osanwë, she soon forgot it, or deemed it nothing more than a cry for help, to get Huan off him. 

_I will tell her the next time we are alone..._

**'HUAN! _HUAN!_ GET OFF HIM!' ** Aranya ordered, in a voice no one would dare disobey. 

Except Huan. He barked right into Kyelaeron's ear, for additional show. 

**_'HUAN!'_ ** Aranya roared. Kyelaeron could see an internal osanwë battle being waged between his osellë and her hound. 

Finally, Huan yielded, and pulled himself off Kyelaeron. 

Siofra ran to Kyelaeron, checking him for any injuries, no doubt feeling tremendously guilty. 

He assured her he was fine, albeit a little spooked. The scolding she gave Huan had the dog whining in the corner, tail between his legs, ears drooped. 

Aranya gave Kyelaeron one of her infamous hugs. For the third time that morning, Kyelaeron felt suffocated, but he could not deny the comfort and security Aranya's arms provided. They were significantly better than what Huan had just put him through. 

_Huan..._ Kyelaeron remembered the truth he had been about to divulge. Aranya... Aranya was _royal_... Aranya was a _princess..._

With Aranya's back turned Huan proceeded to glare at Kyelaeron, warning him of the consequences should he divulge what they both knew to be true, all while keeping up his 'guilty' facade by whining every few seconds. 

Kyelaeron ignored him, sticking his tongue out at the hound, because Anya was not looking, and if Huan could play that game, so could he. It took all of Huan's restraint not to pounce on him _again._

_The moment that hound's back is turned, I am telling Anya the truth..._

Little did Kyelaeron know that Huan did not plan on 'turning his back' any time soon... 

A smirk appeared on Kyelaeron's face. He held the embrace for a few seconds longer, just to relish the sweet, sweet revenge he would serve very soon... 

_I cannot wait to tell 'Her Royal Highness' here just how much I worship the ground she stands on..._

SsSSsssSsSsSsSssSs 

_The Halls of Mandos, First Age 505..._

Írissë huddled in a little nook she had found in the Halls. 

She was hiding from her brothers. They had annoyed her enough today. 

Arakáno's words had more of an effect on her than she let on. Him.. _.Ëol_... she shuddered as his face flashed in her mind. He still haunted her... still affected her. Her fëa was tainted by him, by all the damage he had done to it. 

She hated being vulnerable like this. Hated how much she had changed. She hated herself, because she knew deep down this was not her. She wanted to cry. 

_I used to be brave... I used to be fearless... I used to be free..._

She found herself shaking all over, trembling, sobbing. 

Ëol's lies mingled with the true facts in her mind. Soon she did not know what was right or wrong. 

_I want to see Aranya again..._

_I do not deserve to see Aranya... I abandoned her and Lómion..._

_I was a useless mother, I should not have left my husband. I belonged to him..._

_NO NO I DIDN'T HE ENCHANTED ME WITH HIS DARK MAGIC! I COULD NOT LEAVE! I WAS LOST... I WAS TRAPPED!_

_If I had stayed Lómion would not be alone..._

_Ëol gave me hospitality in his home... forced marriage was a small price to pay..._

_No NO! Írissë STOP IT! What he did to me... all of it... it was sick..._

_I am a COWARD! I was afraid of him and so I left and I deserved to die..._

_No I didn't... he deserved it... He deserved the Void..._

_The Void... TYELKO!_

_I will never see Tyelko again. I will never be released... If he dies he will go to the everlasting darkness..._

_If I was released, swore an oath to the darkness and then died... NO I CAN'T LEAVE ARANYA OR LÓMION!..._

_...But I already have..._

_Tyelko is going to die... he has changed... like me...he will not stop... he will do anything to get the silmarils...for his Atar and for Pityo..._

_Then again, Tyelkormo is already dead..._

_I should have stayed in Himlad... Or when I escaped I should have gone with Tyelko to Himlad... he offered...he begged..._

_When he saw Lómion and me on the way to Gondolin... when he saw me... marred, and tainted me... I saw him die... I saw Tyelkormo die... and Celegorm take over entirely..._

_I WANT TYELKO! I NEED TYELKO!_

_Tyelko is gone... forever..._

Full of despair, Írissë sobbed and wept and cursed fate and destiny to no end. How long she stayed in her hiding place she did not know. Too long, for she had allowed herself to think too much. 

Her fear and anxiety and self loathing all turned to hysteric insanity. 

Soon she was screaming, furious at the world. 

When Írissë had entered the Halls, she had stubbornly demanded to be re-embodied _immediately._ She was not meant to be here! This was a mistake! She was needed in Gondolin! Lómion needed her! 

Lord Námo however, refused. No one was re-embodied just like that, and Írissë's fëa was in _very_ frail condition. 

When told she would not be released, Írissë, proving Námo correct, screamed and thrashed and cursed until Nienna was called. Írissë, however, absolutely refused to be nursed back to stability, and _ran._

The Valar of the Halls let her go, perhaps thinking her brother would help her more than they could. 

And so Arakáno had found her, huddled in an insane internal rant, as she was now... 

None of her brothers, or cousins, or even her Atar, for that matter, could heal her however... _No one but Tyelko..._

Írissë's screaming got louder... 

'ÍRISSË?' 

'NÉSA?' 

'ONYA?' 

Her head shot up. Her father and brothers were looking for her... She did not want to see them now... She did not want to prove Arakáno's words true, or prove Findékáno's concern valid. She did not want to see the pain in her Atar eyes as he saw what a broken mess his only daughter had become. 

Because in spite of how much Írissë had changed, she still hated pity... 

And so she rose from her cranny, and moved quickly away from the voices. 

She was seen however, and her family followed her, in pursuit. 

The called her name again. Anger rose within her. Why could they not just leave her be..? She did not deserve their love nor sympathy! 

She rounded a corner, passing a balcony overlooking some private room of Námo's. 

She skidded to a halt, and was forced to blink and pinch herself at the scene she witnessed below. 

She was vaguely aware of her Atar and two brothers catching up with her, beginning to scold and fuss over her, before they too noticed just _who_ was in trouble with Lord Námo. 

'No...' Gasped Arakáno... 

'Impossible...' Nolofinwë's eyes were wide. 

'Are we certain it is not Telvo...?' Findékáno asked, in disbelief. 

'Yes' Írissë muttered. 'Look at the hair, it is too dark to be Telvo's.' 

Below them, Námo paced over and back, clearly in fury. 'I will ask you one more time...' he spoke, his voice chilling, a tone not a soul would dare disobey. '...how did you escape? DO NOT DARE LIE TO ME, SON OF FËANÁRO!' 

'As I have just told you one hundred times, Námo, Eru _let me go!'_ Pityo's fëa seemed worse for wear after so many years spent in the void. However, he leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed, a smug look on his face that would have made his father proud, a cheeky tone in his voice that made it seem like nothing had changed. 

Námo did not take such cheek well. 'IT IS _LORD_ NÁMO TO YOU! Tell me Pityafinwë, why did Eru see fit as to release you, and not tell me?' 

'Well if we are being formal I suppose you better call me _Lord_ Pityafinwë too.' Pityo smirked. 

'Answer the question.' Námo sighed, exasperated. 

'Eru said I was not meant to die in the shipburning, that I had a role to play in the music. He said I was to return to my brothers, and granted me leave to help them fulfil our oath.' Pityo listed off the reasons of his release as though he was listing of his favourite colours. 

Námo stared at Fëanáro's youngest. 'Oh I believe you now. My apologies for my mistrust.' He uttered sarcastically before bursting into a full-blown rage. 'DO NOT THINK FOR ONE SECOND I WILL RE-EMBODY YOU, BEFORE THOSE YOU _KILLED,_ SIMPLY SO YOU CAN FULFIL YOUR LITTLE OATH THAT IS DRIVING YOUR REMAINIMG BROTHERS TO MURDER! THATS RIGHT! MURDER! MY WIFË WEAVES THEM EVERYDAY, THEY ARE PLANNING ON ATTACKING MENEGROTH, JUST FOR THAT PRECIOUS JEWEL! HOW MANY MORE SOULS WILL ENTER MY HALLS JUST BECAUSE OF THAT RIDICULOUS OATH?! LISTEN _CHILD!_ IF YOU WISH FOR RE-EMBODIMENT, YOU BETTER HAVE A BETTER EXPLANATION THAN THAT _AND_ PROOF! PROOF FROM ERU HIMSELF THAT THIS IS NOT SOME PLOT OF YOUR FATHER! YOU...-' 

'BROTHER _**PEACE!** _ ' Nienna materialised out of nowhere. 'Let the son of Fëanáro explain himself fully, and then we shall give him fair judgement! ' Tears streaked her face. 'This little one has endured much torment...' she whispered to herself. 

Námo closed his eyes and sighed. 'You are lucky my sister has heart of gold.' He glared at Pityo. 'I will summon Vairë and Irmo, and we shall hear you and judge you, you will...-' 

'What in the name of Ilúvatar is going on in here?' Vairë strolled in, furious at her husband. 'We can hear you from as far away as the looms, Meldo! Control that temper of yours!' 

Námo pointed out Pityo to his wife. 'This son of Fëanáro has the nerve to tell me he is to be released, to reunite with his brothers and fulfil the oath, by order of _Eru!_ ' 

Vairë raised an eyebrow. 'Is that so...?' she stared right into Pityo's soul, quite literally, searching for the lies she suspected there. 

'He is telling the truth!' a new voice sounded. In rushed Irmo, eyes wide. 'Eru has just told me _everything._ ' 

Námo looked in disbelief at his brother. Irmo stared back, affirmatively. A silent conversation seemed to ensue between the siblings. 

Finally Námo spoke. 'So I am simply meant to re-embody him, immediately? Regardless of his crimes and against my better judgement?' 

'Not quite.' Replied Irmo, eyes distant, the way they were when he prophesied. 'He will remain here for now. A time will come in the near future where he will be tested, to see where his priorities truly lie. If he passes, he will be re-embodied, but unknown to the Eldar of Aman, save two.' 

More silent conversation ensued. Pityo looked slightly nervous. Finally, the four Valar turned their eyes to him. 'Pityafinwë Ambarussa...' began Námo. 'Your fëa shall rest here in these Halls, until the time comes for your release, be it in the near future or the end of time.' 

Írissë could swear she saw Pityo gulp uneasily at Námo's intimidating words. 

'Fear is pointless, child.' Nienna spoke gently. 'Now come, I am sure your cousins and uncle here will be _delighted_ to see you.' She turned, throwing Nolofinwë's deceased House members a look for eavesdropping. 'And since you suffered as much as they did from the shipburning, I am certain NO quarrels or disagreements will arise between the two of you, will they?' 

The soft spoken words could not have been more threatening if Nienna tried. 

'No my Lady.' Findékáno spoke on behalf of his family. 

'No my Lady'. Pityo echoed. 

'Very well, Nolofinwë and your children, come here and greet your nephew and cousin.' 

As they made their way to Pityo, Írissë felt a change. 

_Eru sent Pityo back..._

_Eru believes there is a chance they can fulfil the oath..._

_Pityo came back..._

_...so could Tyelko..._

_There is hope they will succeed, and reclaim the silmarils..._

_Tyelko may not die..._

_...There is hope..._

_...I need to be released..._

_...I need to heal..._

_...I **want** to heal... _

_**...I want to go home...** _

'Írissë?' Findékáno halted, noticing a stall in her movement. On hearing his voice, her Atar and Arakáno turned too, concern on their faces. 

'Are you alright Onya?' Nolofinwë asked, worry evident in his tone. 

Írissë crashed into his arms. 

'I am so, so sorry' she whispered, 'for all I have put you through in here. I promise... I promise I will allow myself to heal, I will forgive myself, I will not allow hurts done to me in my past life affect me anymore. I love you, all... so so much.' 

She felt Findékáno and Arakáno join the hug. They remained in the sweet embrace for a precious moment, before continuing on down to Pityo. 

'Welcome back little sister!' Findékáno smirked. 

'Nésa?' Arakáno began. 

'Yes little hanno?' Írissë reached to ruffle his hair, and smiled. 

'I missed you...' he replied, before turning his face away, unsuccessfully hiding the tears of joy streaming down his face. 

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> Culoxë- Golden haired. 
> 
> Sanda- firm, true (ironic) 
> 
> Alma- Flower. 
> 
> Fínëa- dexterous 
> 
> Kalima- Luminous 
> 
> sSSSsSssSssSssSsSs 
> 
> To anyone who ships Aredhel and Ëol, I am sorry, but I depicted Ëol here ~~as the monster that he is~~ hem I mean, as the person I personally interpret him to be. 
> 
> Hehe kinda proud of myself for fitting all of Maedhros’ names in. 
> 
> Maeglin: *being a bitch in Gondolin’s court, considering switching sides, coming close to murdering Tuor many times...* 
> 
> Írissë: MY BABY BOY CAN DO NO WRONG! LEAVE ~~BRITNEY~~ LÓMION ALONE! 
> 
> Yes Írissë, Kyelaeron is nice, ~~in more ways than one.~~
> 
> Little note on the fëar in the Halls: Whether it is accurate or not, they are in ghost form in the Halls for this story. So yes they can all talk and move and all look the same as they did alive, except that their ghosts. (This is probably a subconscious coping mechanism my brain has created to heal my broken heart after reading the Silmarillion!) 
> 
> Soo... Alot of rumours going round. Some really stupid and some very, very scarily correct. Huan appearing at the Trial really added fuel to the wildfire whispers. 
> 
> Lindë is so sarcastic and I actually love it on her. 
> 
> The Fëanáro 'famous quote' is not mine. Someone famous said it but I can't for the life of me remember who... not Fëanor anyway! 
> 
> Oh Malta... he is the definition one of those people that, no matter what they do, things always work out for them. Lucky guess I guess with the Írissë guess! 
> 
> Amárië represents the Silmarillion fandom as a whole- shipping anything and anyone that so much as breathes. 
> 
> Ahhh Tyeliër and Mára figured it out! What I loved about their little piece is that they simply used their heads like 'Okay, Mára,you have seen Siofra's parents, I have seen Tyelkormo (and Írissë), let's see if they are the same people...' Kyelaeron and Siofra really ought to have thought of that... 
> 
> HUAN! Oh my God like just scaring the truth from Kyelaeron's mouth. Like I feel if he wanted to he could prevent Siofra from ever finding out her heritage... but will he? 
> 
> Siofra loving the camp is the equivalent of me at a 3-4 star hotel. 
> 
> Me: makes my OC wake up before dawn everyday and freak out if she misses the sunrise. 
> 
> Also me: Closest I’ve got to ‘waking for the dawn’ is when I stay up till 4am in the summertime... Yeah I think I'm more like Kyelaeron here... 
> 
> KYELAERON KNOWS! HE FIGURED IT OUT! SMART BOIIIIII!Literally Kyelaeron and Huan fighting over Siofra like two little boys fighting over their mother. 
> 
> Siofra, sometime in the Woods: 'Look at the cute little kitty! Aww you so adorable! Can we take this kitten home Kyelaeron?' 
> 
> Kyelaeron: *slowly backs away from the full grown lion* 
> 
> AYYY! Pityo is out of the dark! And literally giving Eru and Námo sass as if his life does not depend on them. 
> 
> Nienna just can't deal with minding a Fëanorion and forcefully asks Nolofinwë to babysit. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Not as much action as the last but hopefully a few twists and turns to keep the plot interesting. 
> 
> Comments/Reviews/Kudos/Favs/Follows... PLEASE! They make my day! 
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	14. Tainted Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyelaeron spills the truth. Anairë faces the Noldor council. 'Family Day' leads to some unexpected visitors. Pityo wrecks havoc in the Halls

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

Kyelaeron felt sick with nerves.

He leaned against the wall and sighed. Behind the door to his left was the Princess.

It was time to let the truth out.

Why now? Kyelaeron felt anger rise in his chest as he remembered exactly _why,_ or more precisely _who,_ had landed him in this uncomfortable predicament.

That blasted, insufferable, stubborn _hound._ Kyelaeron had done everything within his power these past few days to reveal the truth to Aranya. He tried quickly blurting it out, speaking in riddles, writing a note- despite Anya's slow pace in figuring out the letters. Valar he even tried to tell her in the baths, _underwater._ And everytime he failed, thanks to the unyielding clingyness of Huan.

Kyelaeron had been knocked over many times since that first meeting with the renowned dog. And many more threats had been blackmailed from those ever watchful eyes.

To make things even more frustrating, Aranya was completely oblivious to her hound's malice. Huan could do no wrong in her eyes. She figured the hound's unfriendliness towards her otorno was down to Kyelaeron's indifference to dogs, in other words, it was _his_ fault Huan kept attacking him.

And to make matters absolutely infuriating, the hound, in more recent days, began to 'feel poorly' because apparently he was 'adjusting to re-embodiment', which of course generated so much sympathy from Anya that his attacks on Kyelaeron went without acknowledgement or scolding.

Kyelaeron knew the hound was faking it. Every second Aranya's back was turned Huan would shoot him a smug look.

The one positive thing Kyelaeron took from this situation was that Huan appeared to be protecting Aranya from the people's whispers as much as he was protecting her from her own otorno. Huan's 'sickness' meant Aranya did not leave camp.

But Kyelaeron could not take it anymore. As an otorno, he _had_ _to_ tell Aranya the truth. She had been lied to her whole life. It was not right. True, her parentage was controversial and the deeds of said parents even more so, but was it not better to know? Valar, Kyelaeron knew she spent much of her days thinking of her dear Atar and Ammë, just simply wishing to remember _who_ they were, names for the faces, a 'home' to visit in the city, perhaps some long lost relatives or friends who had stories. Anything, just so she could hold a little more of them in her mind and her heart.

He knew how she felt. Kyelaeron knew the truth of his father and mother, which Vayeyla would eventually tell him, would hurt. His Aunt had said as much. However, no matter how much pain it caused him, Kyelaeron _needed_ to know.

To not know would be worse.

 _Aranya_ needed to know.

And so here he was, waiting for a door to open, deeply dreading the reaction he was about to provoke.

Yesterday he had revealed Aranya's parentage to Vayeyla. After her shock over the maternal revelation, his Aunt had presented a possible solution to his predicament.

Huan would not allow him to tell Aranya the truth. But what if someone else could?

Someone Tyelkormo had obeyed and listened to... mostly. Someone Huan would not dare tackle to the ground.

Kyelaeron did not like Vayelya's plan. He was completely out of his comfort zone in this setting. _.. I do not belong here... I belong in the woods... Valar I wish there was a tree I could talk to, to ease my nerves!_

_Ai! I hope she does not think I am mad when I tell her! What if she does not believe me?_

_I do not know how to act... Despite all that teasing, I really do not know how to be a 'Lord'._

_Maybe I should have put a shirt on..._

_I wonder if I ran now, by the time-..._

The door opened.

'Lady Nerdanel will see you now.' Vayeyla's 'contact' in the palace, Amárië, smiled encouragingly at him as she ushered him into the room.

Kyelaeron swallowed hard and enacted his proudest and bravest demeanour. He made towards the door.

'One more thing!' Amárië whispered quickly. Kyelaeron saw her don a sympathetic expression. She looked as if she wanted to give him a motherly hug, or take his place in the room. Kyelaeron knew that was not good...

'Yes?' Kyelaeron asked, concealing the shake in his voice.

'Lady Nerdanel insisted Lady Anairë accompany her for this meeting. She awaits you inside also.' Amárie gently nudged him towards the door, as if to say it was no big deal.

It _was_ a big deal.

Kyelaeron blanched as he recalled the piercing glare he had received several days ago, his punishment for laughing in the parade.

Now he would have to break the truth to not one grandmother, but _two._

 _Finally_ entering the room, Kyelaeron could not help but think, _how simple life was just one week ago..._

SSssSSSssSSsssSsSSsSSsSSs

_Tirion, The day before..._

Anar rose on yet another significant day in the Aráto Games. It was Family Day. The day relatives of competitors would be allowed into the exclusive Hunter and Warrior camps.

The streets of Tirion buzzed with excitement and joy.

It made Anairë's scowl harsher.

All she could think of all morning was her grandchild, who would not receive any visitors today.

Memories of Írissë's Games flooded her mind. She had not visited her daughter that day either. Even now she could still feel the guilt.

_I have no choice this time. For Aranya's own protection, she must remain alone today... There is something else I must do now, for her._

Today marked the first Noldor council meeting since the Games had commenced. Anairë winced. The rumours of the heritage of Aranya were far more than she anticipated. And some were scarily close to the truth...

She had no doubt this issue would be brought up before the King...

A knock echoed on the door. In stepped Eärwen and Nerdanel. The latter had taken up temporary residence in the palace since yesterday... too many people had shown the nerve to knock on her workshop door, asking for _secrets_ , not statues. Nerdanel was patient, but she could not suffer that sort of harassment for long.

'It is time.' Eärwen announced. Anairë nodded, took a deep breath and fixed her circlet into her hair.

'Good Luck.' Nerdanel smiled reassuringly.

'Time to kill a rumour.' Anairë replied assertively, before hesitating. 'Is it really a good idea to leave Ara in the dark here?'

'YES!' Both of her law-sisters answered together.

'Ara cannot lie to save his life.' Nerdanel began.

'His reaction needs to be natural, if the Lords are to believe your speech.' Eärwen added.

Anairë nodded. They were right. 'Very well. See you both after.'

She made her way through the intricate Halls of the Palace, forcing her mean façade onto her face.

As she came close to the council room, acting became unnecessary.

She rolled her eyes in disgust at the whispers that floated in her direction.

_'_ _It is obvious she is Tyelkormo's, she is the child of the wild march hare!'_

_'And her Telerin partner screamed when she saw her!'_

_'No no, she is Míriel, you heard what Lady Indis said...'_

_No I think she is from the House of Arafinwë... her hair... it is a silvery blonde, a mix of Vanyar and Telerin hair..._

_'I am telling you it is Írissë that is the mother... the girl does not have a Fëanorion accent...'_

_'She is not an elf at all...she is a Maia in disguise! Her skills are too good!_

_'Whoever she is, we need to tell the King... she should be-...'_

'LADY ANAIRË! Good morning, my Lady!'

And the whispers stopped.

Anairë summoned a cool, indifferent scowl. 'My _Lords'_ she nodded as she strutted to her seat. 'Do I need to remind you that we are here to work, to run a kingdom? As far as I can remember Tirion does not run on gossip and idle chit-chat of sporting events.' She gave each a pointed glare, making it clear she had heard _everything_ they had said.

She stared so long at the ner who dared mention Írissë that he began to shuffle in his seat.

'Apologies, my Lady' a bold one managed to blurt. 'But these _are_ matters we intend to discuss today, with the King.'

Before Anairë had a chance to give that Lord a piece of her mind, who entered but the Noldoran himself. Anairë and the Lords stood, before bowing their heads in respect and sitting down once Arafinwë had settled into the throne.

'Welcome my Lords and Lady.' Arafinwë smiled, gentle but firm. 'I hope you all have enjoyed the Aráto Games thus far. But alas, we have our duties to attend to for today. Finance and planning will have to be discussed and agreed upon within the next hour or so, as will plans for the Aráto Ball, held in the palace, for the finalists. However to begin, I will hear any proposals, queries or concerns any of you may have.'

Sure enough the 'bold' Lord stepped forward. 'My King...' he began, and Anairë was instantly triggered by the arrogance in his voice. '...My fellow Lords and I have heard concerns from many of our House followers. And we believe there is an _issue_ relating to one of Oromë's followers.'

'Oh...' Arafinwë raised an eyebrow. 'May I remind you all however, that while we, as hosts, have more power over the Games than the other kingdoms of Aman, final decisions relating to the Trials and the competitors are in the hands of the Valar and the previous champions. Forgive me for being forward, but I do not see the relevance in your point, in terms of what is our duty here.'

'I beg you, my King, hear our concern! It significantly affects the Noldor royalty, and the reputation of our people!'

'Yes my King, my fellow Lords speak true! The Noldo nís that was first to complete the First Trial... we all have it on good grounds to believe-...'

'It is very likely, your Highness, that she is a lovechild of someone in the House of Finwë!'

'Disqualification is _necessary!_ Imagine the uproar should a child of such a well-known kinslayer win!

'The bridges we have built with the Teleri would be in tatters!'

'While we differ on opinion as regards _who_ she is related to, we all agree she is royal, but _I_ believe there is a strong chance it is-...'

'Tyelkormo!'

'Írissë!'

'Míriel!'

'Angaráto!'

**' _SILENCE!'_**

All heads turned towards Anairë.

She could not take any more of this nonsense. _Ridiculous_ _idiots!_ she thought to herself. Had she not known better, and had not been so worked up about the insults the Lords had casually thrown around, aimed at her daughter, granddaughter, House AND essentially all of the Noldo royalty, she would have laughed.

But Anairë knew better.

'I HAVE HEARD QUITE ENOUGH OF THIS RIDICULOUS NONSENSE! PERHAPS NONE OF YOU HAVE THE INTELLIGENCE TO REALISE THAT, BY 'RAISING YOUR CONCERNS' YOU HAVE INSULTED AND QUESTIONED THE HONOUR OF THE ENTIRE HOUSE OF FINWË! YOU ALL OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED, AND APOLOGISE TO OUR KING AND MYSELF FOR OFFENDING OUR CHILDREN!'

Anairë paused, and glared. No one dared meet her gaze.

She continued. 'SO NOW OUR PROUD COUNCIL MAKES DECISIONS BASED ON GOSSIP FANTASIES AND THEORIES FROM THE STREET! IF _ANY_ OF YOU HAVE HARD, PROPER EVIDENCE THAT THIS NÍS IS RELATED TO WHOEVER THE VOID YOU HAPPEN TO BELIEVE SHE IS, BY ALL MEANS, BRING IT FORTH! DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU ALL WHAT RUMOURS AND TALL TALES DID TO OUR PEOPLE NOT TOO LONG AGO? HMMM? MALICIOUS LIES LED TO A SWORD POINTED AT MY HUSBANDS THROAT BY NO OTHER THAN HIS _BROTHER!_ '

Another pause.

Anairë was not finished yet

'THOSE RUMOURS LED TO A BANISHMENT, WHICH LED TO FORMENOS, WHICH LED TO OUR _KING_ BEING _SLAUGHTERED!_ OUR PEOPLE HAVE A REPUTATION FOR WISDOM AND BRAINS. NONE OF _YOU_ ARE SHOWING SUCH QUALITIES! WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MAJOR FESTIVAL! TIES WITH THE TELERI NEED TO BE STRENGTHENED MORE THAN THEY ALREADY ARE! WE NEED TO WORK ON OUR DIMPLOMACY, STRIVE TOWARDS BETTER INTEGRATION OF ALL PEOPLES OF AMAN! WE HAVE EVENTS TO PLAN, FUNDING TO ARRANGE, DECORATIONS AND FEASTS TO ORGANISE! WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR CHILDISH _BULLSHIT!'_

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Anairë lowered her tone, but it remained as sharp, cold and terrifying as ever.

'My King, I apologise for my rash outburst, but I think you will thank me for ending this madness and freeing more time to complete our duties efficiently. I would like to reiterate my argument, in case any of my fellow council members here missed it. The rumours, about the nís who I believe goes by the name Siofra Aranya, are not true, as far as the Noldor royalty are concerned. I assure you, and I am certain my law-brother, his Highness, will vouch for me on this matter. As your Princess I wish to hear no more of the nonsense you hear from your gossip circles. You are all worse than a group of adolescent níssi! There is no hard evidence of what you claim and therefore we will not acknowledge the matter until the day there is. I will accept your apologies now. One at a time. Then we shall work on our diplomacy skills...'

Unknown to the council, the door had ears.

Eärwen and Nerdanel had to restrain themselves from giggling as each of the Lord's issued an apology to both Anairë and Arafinwë.

'My Eru!' Nerdanel exclaimed. 'Hand on heart she is more terrifying than Fëanáro!'

'Fëanáro?' Eärwen laughed. 'Never mind Fëanáro, she is scarier than Moringotto!'

'What are you two doing?' A voice barked at them.

The two níssi jumped, and turned, putting on as innocent a façade as they could muster.

Findis rounded the corner, a stern expression on her face.

'We...ahhh...' Nerdanel began.

'We were cleaning the door handles...' Eärwen finished, as if cleaning door handles was the most natural task in the world to the nís who was both Queen of the Noldor and Princess of the Teleri.

Findis rolled her eyes, before strolling over to a tapestry, and pulling it aside, revealing a hidden staircase neither níssi knew was there. 'If you want to eavesdrop, you go _up.'_ was all the daughter of Finwë said, before striding up the stairs, leading her law sisters to a concealed balcony with a perfect view of the ongoings of the council meeting...

sSSSssSsssSsSSsssSS

Kyelaeron flopped onto his bed, buried his face in his pillow and _screamed._

He and Anya had been sparring, when he had tried to tell her the truth in osanwë. She was a princess. She was the child of Tyelkormo and Írissë.

Huan, who was 'feeling strange' apparently, had 'accidentally' _fainted_ on him.

The Second Trial was three days away. He was running out of time... he needed to tell Aranya, but he also needed to make sure he did not throw her off her game by telling her too close to the Trial.

He massaged his bruised back. _At this rate that hound will have me in the Halls this time next week!_

_Ai Valar! What to do?!_

Kyelaeron needed help here. He needed someone to help him come up with a plan. To distract the blasted dog. Someone he could trust. Someone who was clever enough to think up a plan, but also would be able to take a shocking secret in their stride...

_Vayeyla..._

_She might just be the answer..._

_It feels wrong telling Aranya's secret before I have even told Anya... but Ai what choice do I have? I am getting nowhere as it is!_

Kyelaeron knew he could count on his Aunt. And luckily today was Family Day. She would be visiting him later.

Things were looking up.

Suddenly, the tent flap burst open. Two figures bounded in, looking scruffier and worse for wear than usual.

'Kyelaeron... we... we have something to tell you...' Mára began.

Tyeliër continued. 'Yes and we think its best _you_ as an otorno know and then you tell because... we.. we tried telling her...'

'And..and whenever we came close to telling Siofra the truth that... accursed...'

'...damned...'

'...infuriating...'

'...viscious...'

'...annoying...'

'... _Little shit_ of a hound pounced on you, when Aranya's back was turned, I know!' Kyelaeron finished for them. He rose from the bed, showing off the many bruises and scratches he had gained from the dog's antics.

'So you figured it out?' Kyelaeron raised an eyebrow, not exactly stating what, just in case.

The two nodded enthusiastically. 'Tyelkormo and Írissë... Ai Valar I still can't believe it!' Mára exclaimed.

'We heard the rumours and were curious...' Tyeliër began. 'Then I showed Mára a picture of the two and she knew them to be the parents!'

'Ai..' Kyelaeron exclaimed. 'I only realised when she kept Huan as a pet and told me he belonged to her Atar. And I knew from my days with Ammë that Tyelkormo and Írissë were together. How were we so blind?! And why was Aranya lied to?'

'I don't know' sighed Mára. 'But we need to tell her.'

'Better she hear it from you, Kyelaeron, than the rumours on the street.' Tyeliër added.

'I know...' Kyelaeron raked a hand through his hair. 'But I need to think of a plan... some way to stop that stupid dog!'

'We shall all rack our brains.' Mára agreed.

'Aye' answered Tyeliër. 'Hey Kyelaeron! While we are on the subject of parentage, is it true what people are saying about you?'

'If you mean the theory that I am a Maia in a ner's body then no, as far as I am aware I am _not._ _'_ Kyelaeron smirked. The couple laughed.

'I think Meldo means the rumour that it was your Atar who was in the final of Tyelkormo and Írissë's Games.' Mára explained.

Kyelaeron smiled. 'Yes that one is true. But if any of you dare call me a Lord I will beat you with my flute!'

Tyeliër did not seem to hear him, he was lost in nostalgia, a little boy again it seemed.

'He was _AMAZING_ in the final! I remember the whole crowd gasping when he disarmed Tyelkormo- within the first minute! And then he headbutted Tyelkormo so hard he fell on his arse!'

Kyelaeron smiled fond at this new revelation. So his Atar had knocked over Aranya's Atar during the _final_ , no less. That was quite hilarious to think about, little did those two neri know their children would end up osellë and otorno. 'How did Tyelko escape and manage to win?' he had to ask.

'Írissë.' Tyeliër shrugged. 'She lost her temper and thew her quiver at your Atar's head, knocking him over, and into a large pond no less.'

'That sounds far too familiar for comfort.' Kyelaeron shook his head as he recalled Aranya doing the _exact_ same thing to him one day, knocking him into the lake.

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

Siofra was _bored._

She ached for a spar with Kyelaeron. Or a stroll through the streets. Or a bath.

Or anything other than staying in her tent.

However, since it was 'Family Day', all of her companions were otherwise occupied with their relatives.

Sure, she could have gone off somewhere on her own, but she was reluctant to leave Huan, who, today of all days was feeling rather poorly. _Poor thing..._ Siofra pitied him. _It must not be easy adjusting to re-embodiment._

Huan was currently huddled up in the corner. However he kept a watchful eye open all the time, despite Aranya's insistence he sleep. _He is so loyal!_ She mused _Such a selfless little doggie, aren't you boy?!_

Not-so-little 'doggie' Huan let out a miserable little whine, begging attention and thus hardening Aranya's resolve to remain by his side, in the tent, for the rest of the day.

Not-so-poorly Huan knew precisely how to put on a show, to protect his Master from the eyes of the visiting relatives...

Aranya crouched down beside him petted him, snuggling into his fur. Perhaps she should skip visiting Kyelaeron later. Her otorno had insisted she meet Vayeyla. Siofra however, insisted the aunt and nephew have some time alone before she barged in on them, despite Kyelaeron's reassurance she would not be intruding. Apparently he would be in big trouble if by the end of today his osellë had not been introduced to his aunt.

Huan sensed Aranya's thoughts were on her otorno, and whined loudly, focusing her attention on _him._ But Huan reminded her of her Atar, and Aranya's thoughts then turned to the day that was in it. 'Family Day', the day relatives were allowed into the exclusive camp. Hugs and kisses of pride would be given. Nerves would be consoled. Advice, of varying levels of usefulness, would be received.

And... _PAN_ _G!_ The familiar stab in Aranya's heart...

...No one would be visiting her.

She should not care. She was not the only hunter to receive no visitors... Then again that was only because there was a few competitors whose entire family dwelt with the followers of Oromë, like Mára.

She was the only one truly alone...

_Stop this brooding this instance! I am extremely lucky! All I have learned of the poor Teleri the past few days! Imagine the heartbreak they must feel... I have no right to feel sorry for myself... not after what HE and SHE did... I can't believe they did that... How could they? How could anyone? Was it an accident, a misunderstanding, an act of self defence?... No, that is wishful thinking. One does not accidentally massacre half a city in mere self defense..._

And the deep knot of anxiety and shame and worry and numbness returned to the pits of her stomach.

This feeling was relatively new. She tried to ignore it, in fact, she had quite successfully done so for the past few days, distracting herself with Huan and parties and friends. Now, here with naught all to do she found herself overwhelmed with a hurricane of emotion.

All because of the ugly truth.

What _they_ did.

After the initial thrill of her success in the First trial, and of reuniting with Huan had passed, Siofra found herself hit with the harsh truth she did not have time to process fully in the middle of the maze. Her parents were _kinslayers._

Siofra sighed in frustration. Now she was alone she had too much time to think. And she could not help but recall what she had learned mere days ago- the deeds of her Atar and Ammë in Alqualondë.

She could make no light of the situation. This newfound knowledge tainted her memories of them. And it hurt. That perfect picture in her head was no longer pristine. The people she had idolised no longer seemed so heroic.

This knowledge, mixed with nerves from the Games, the restlessness resulting from a poorly hound leaving her tent-bound, AND slight anger towards the elders and Oromë from hiding said truth from her, mingled together in her mind. She was a walking sack of insecurities.

Huan sensed her thoughts again, and whined, this time in sympathy. He lifted his 'weary' head and gently nudged Aranya, licking her face. He earned a small chuckle, though it did not last.

Unable to sit still, she began pacing her tent floor. Usually if she felt worried she would talk to Kyelaeron. However, her otorno seemed distant the past few days. Siofra presumed he it was because Huan scared him, and he did not want to admit his cowardice.

Anyway, she could not visit Kyelaeron now. She was determined to give him time with his Aunt. And Huan needed her.

Her heart pounded. Her pacing quickened.

It did not take long for her to start kicking things, as she muttered curses in anger.

Then the tears came.

Aranya was no stranger to anger. She admitted she was rather hot tempered, and impatient and restless. However, she was also painfully optimistic, something Kyelaeron always laughed at. Her 'tantrums' would always be laced with hope and uncanny happiness, which was a strange and humorous sight indeed.

But now, as she lashed out with her emotions, punishing the air and the floor and the furniture with her kicks and punches, she felt no trace of happiness at all.

Aranya began to panic. She was _always_ happy.

But, the newfound knowledge took its toll, and she found herself in a deep pit of despair.

_What is there to be happy about? My happiest memories of them are forever darkened..._ _I want to go to Kyelaer... no no NO! I won't interrupt him now..._

_..._ _Atar and Ammë are gone and they are not coming back and even if they did I do not know if I could forgive them!_

_They broke every moral I live by..._

_I...I cannot breathe..._

Huan noticed her distress, and was at her side suspiciously fast.

Siofra barely acknowledged him. Unknown to herself, she was having a panic attack. She felt confused and scared and angry and hopeless all at once. Her chest felt so tight it was painful. She struggled against it, but like one swimming against a riptide, it was exhausting and fruitless.

Soon various items in the tent went flying, smashing to the ground.

 _'AAAAGGGHHHH **FUCK**! _FUCK THEM! I HATE THEM! AS IF LEAVING ME WAS NOT ENOUGH THEY WENT AND... AND **FUUUUUCK!**

Her final plate was about to be smashed on the ground when Siofra froze, hand raised, about to be slammed down in fury. Her face was flushed and tears streamed down her cheeks. She held a bewildered expression as she turned, towards the entrance of her tent, where she sensed a presence.

A cloaked figure stood at the door, face covered. Siofra forced her emotion back inside, promising herself she would release it later. She sheepishly lowered her plate hand and wiped her eyes with the other, all while failing miserably to smile and appear relatively sane.

'Hullo' she managed to gasp out before a sob escaped her lips and her voice cracked.

The figure closed the tent flap completely, before striding over to the makeshift kitchenette. Pulling out two glasses, which Siofra luckily had not got her hands on, the mystery visitor produced a full bottle of mirúvorë, filling the glasses to the brim before promptly shoving one into Siofra's shaky hand.

Usually Siofra would have questioned such a strange intrusion, and would have made sure she knew who was offering her a drink. However, now she did not care. She downed her mirúvorë in one go, and felt the surprised glance of shady figure through the concealing cloak.

' _WHAT!?'_ Siofra barked, before shrugging as the alcohol warmed her insides and fuzzed her emotions just a little. 'My Atar gave me mirúvorë when I was but a baby. I never stood a chance!' she muttered, with a twinge of dry humor.

The figure proceeded to pull down her hood, revealing a face Siofra recently had come to know.

Now however the familiar face seemed softer than usual, a strange sort of empathy emanating from those hazel eyes. She flicked her chestnut brown hair out of her eyes.

Tanwë smirked slightly before speaking knowingly.

'You and I have a lot more in common than I thought.'

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

Meanwhile, in the tent next door, Vayeyla and Kyelaeron caught up on the past few days.

After a few minutes of idle chat, Kyelaeron decided to drop the bombshell and reveal the truth about his osellë to Vayeyla.

Or, _half_ of the truth at least.

He had braced himself for some sort of reaction, but his Aunt did not so much as hesitate a moment, continuing to make herself tea as though Kyelaeron had just commented on the weather.

'Vayeyla? Are you listening?'

'Hmmm?... Yes Kyel I am.'

'What did I just say?' Kyelaeron was not convinced. 'And if you don't mind me saying, I think you are a little addicted to tea.'

'I AM NOT!' Vayeyla said, far too quickly as she hung the teapot over a miniature stove 'And you just told me Aranya is the daughter of Tyelkormo... I cannot say I am surprised. She does look an awful lot like him and ... let's just say, Fëanáro's third son had a bit of a reputation for falling in madly in love at night, only to fall _out_ of it the next morning.'

'Ah, I see.' Kyelaeron said smugly. Vayeyla _thought_ she knew it all. She acted cool.

Kyelaeron knew how to shock her. Oh this would be fun..

'Seeing as you know so much, _Aunt_ , you don't happen to know who her mother is, do you?'

Vayeyla snorted as she poured tea into a cup for her nephew. 'I can narrow it down to hmmm... let's see... any nís of my generation give or take a few hundred years...'

'So you don't know?' Kyelaeron said playfully.

'It could honestly be anyone. All I can tell you is that it is not me!' Vayeyla sighed, tired of this guessing game.

'I see.' Kyelaeron smirked.

Vayeyla glared at him. 'If you are going to tell me then out with it! And if you wish to keep it secret quit playing this game!'

'Fine, I will tell you... but you may not believe me.'

'I have heard of many, many crazy things, you cannot shock me.' Vayeyla assured him.

'Very well, Aunt. She is the daughter of _Írissë_.'

**_CLANK CRASH BANG!_ **

Vayeyla dropped the teapot and froze, eyes opened wide.

SSSsSSsSSSsssSSS

Tanwë was not entirely sure why she decided to visit Siofra, on Family Day of all days.

She did have the excuse of delivering the headbands she had made for the young nís. It would not do to have that tattoo exposed, what with all the rumours...

_They are not a gift... It is my job to make sure the Games run smoothly._

She made sure to wear a cloak which disguised her entirely. If she was seen entering Siofra's tent it would add fuel to the flames of rumours.

_It is strange to think we are kind of related... Meh, we are not really..._

She had took a bottle of mirúvorë with her because, if she were honest, _she_ wanted to drink it with someone.

_Too many memories... I want to forget..._

And so, she had set off, hoping the light hearted nís would take her out of her sorrowful mood. Tricking herself into believing she was not here because she felt an obligation to Siofra, someone related to her husband. She was here to deliver headbands. Not because Siofra was her niece, albeit by marriage.

_I am NOT lonely just because it is Family Day!..._

_I do NOT empathise with her because we are both alone today..._

_Perhaps I just want to remember what it feels like to have family again..._

But instead of receiving comfort, Tanwë ended up the person who _gave_ comfort.

Siofra's outrage was scarily similar to her own. Luckily, that meant she knew exactly how to make the nís feel better.

After she fixed Siofra a drink, which was downed in one go, Tanwë was quick to figure out what had caused such hysteria in Siofra. Alqualondë. She had only just learned about it a few days ago, and after the initial high following the First Trial, came the low.

Siofra's memories of her parents, who she clearly had held so dear, had become tainted by this information. She was confused, conflicted, she did not know how to feel about her dear Atar and Ammë anymore. Tanwë understood. She went through what Siofra did...

_Ai FUCK! H_ _ow am I supposed to help her? I am the furthest one can get from emotional stability... I still HATE him for all he has done!_

A sob dragged Tanwë from her musings. Siofra was slumped against the wall, trying unsuccessfully to muffle her cries in Huan's fur...

Huan had growled at Tanwë at first, but she had glared at him, the way she had long ago, when Tyelkormo would set him up to pounce on her. It worked every time. Huan soon shut up.

She crouched down beside Siofra and grabbed her shoulders. 'Siofra...SIOFRA! Let it all out! Don't you dare wait until I am gone! Let it out.'

Siofra did not need any more encouragement. She fell apart.

Tanwë held her in an embrace and rocked her like a baby.

They stayed there for a while. When Siofra was ready, she talked.

'I...I do not know what to do!' She choked out. 'I thought my parents were _the best_ and then suddenly they are murderers! And ...I ...I want to forgive them, despite it all... BUT I WON'T! HOW COULD THEY? HOW COULD ANYONE HAVE KILLED FOR STUPID _SHIPS_ AT ALQUALONDË? IT IS SO, SO DISAPPOINTING AND _SAD!_ And to make it worse they left me- and I feel lonely sometimes! Kyelaeron cannot be here with me always. AND I am stressed too about the next Trial and... and ... I wish Alqualondë did not happen! AGGGHHHAA!'

'Siofra, _listen_. When the skies grew dark, people were scared. The Noldor had listened to the lies of Moringotto for so, so long and _everyone_ was paranoid. Including me. It is no excuse for what they did, but the followers of Fëanáro were most likely afraid, on top of many other things...And then suddenly a sword is pulled and chaos ensues. And those with proper weapons excel against those without! Then Nolofinwë's followers arrive and see some of their people dead, and assume Fëanáro had a good reason for such violence! The whole event was tragic... and those who killed got away with murder... _But_ had you been there, had you seen people you know and love in danger, would you have been able to stand aside?'

Siofra pondered over this for a moment, before replying. 'I...I do not know. I would like to think so... but... but if I was there and people were falling and dying around me... how could I not fight, when I am so skilled? I would try not to kill but... if things were as chaotic as I imagine...'

Siofra's eyes widened as she realised what she was doing.

'I am as bad as them!' She exclaimed. 'I would throw all my morals out the window in fear! That is _weak,_ that-...'

'No Siofra! To use your skills to help those who are defenseless... that is not a bad thing! My point is... your Atar and Ammë were wrong in participating in Alqualondë, but so was everyone else. And I believe they all regret what they did, terribly. They are kinslayers, but they were also misled! Hunters whose leaders did them wrong! It is hard for us to judge when we were not there.' Tanwë gently finished her 'speech', hoping it would be enough.

 _Perhaps I should listen to myself more..._ Tanwë pondered . _.. Moryo is still far from forgiven in my eyes..._

Siofra was quiet again, before rubbing her eyes. 'You are right', she hoarsely whispered. 'What is done is done, and... it will take a while... but perhaps in time I will be able to remember them without thinking about their biggest mistake.'

'Of course you will.' Tanwë smiled, as she pulled Siofra to her feet. 'You will get over the shock... we all did.'

_Debatable... I am still not right..._

_Maybe it is time I tried to... not forgive him... but understand._

'Thank you.' Siofra said again, sincerely. Tanwë smiled back at her. 'Now are we going to down that bottle of mirúvorë or not?'

'That is more like it!' Tanwë remarked, and she made to pour two more glasses.

sSSSSssSsssSSsssSs

'Vayeyla? VAYEYLA! Say something Aunt!'

Vayeyla could not have been more wrong when she claimed nothing could shock her. She had been pacing for the last ten minutes. Believing Tyelkormo was Aranya's father was easy. But Vayeyla honestly could not believe Írissë was the mother.

For the one hundredth time she paused, temporarily halting her 'walk'. 'Are you _sure?_ How can you be certain?'

'Yes Vayeyla I am sure!' Kyelaeron answered, tired of explaining the evidence over and over.

This time Vayeyla did not resume her march. Drawing a deep breath she sighed. 'Ai I believe you! Now that I think about it, it does make sense! But Kyelaeron, she needs to know! Most people genuinely believe she is Tyelkormo's child. And the bow she carries has not gone unnoticed! She.. she could be in danger! You would be surprised what people are capable of! From what I have heard neither Tyelkormo nor Írissë were innocent at Alqualondë!'

'AI VALAR!' Kyelaeron's eyes widened in realisation. 'I never even thought of that. I wanted to tell her the truth simply because it was the right thing to do! Perhaps the hound being there non-stop is a good thing!

Now Kyelaeron was pacing, and deliberating running to Aranya's tent that very moment if only to ensure she was alright. How dare anyone even think of hurting Aranya!

'The hound? _Huan?_ Vayeyla asked, a little confused.

Kyelaeron forced himself to stop pacing and sit down. 'Yes. Huan. My worst enemy!' He frowned.

Vayeyla laughed, before realising her nephew was not joking. 'You're kidding! He is just a dog!'

'Oh do not be fooled by his antics! You sound just like Aranya! He is a sly bastard!' Kyelaeron crossed his arms and sulked, like a little boy, to his Auntie.

It took all of Vayeyla's restraint not to laugh at him again. 'Okay, you have some explaining to do. Since when has Huan been Aranya's pet? Why is he your enemy? What does this have to do with telling Aranya the truth?'

Kyelaeron took a deep breath, before explaining. 'As you know, I realised who Aranya's parents were when she mentioned that Huan belonged to her Atar. What I did not mention is, when Anya told me that little piece of information, she was in the middle of introducing me to her new 'pet', fresh from the Halls and the First Trial...yes you guessed right, _Huan.'_

'I was about to tell her, when I found myself floored by the dog, and he snapped when I tried to tell Aranya the secret in osanwë. Huan _knows,_ Vayeyla, I have tried many more times to tell her, and all have been unsuccessful, thanks to that damned hound. He does not want her to know! Look at me! I am all bruised! Someday he is going to kill me! Ai, I just want Anya to know the truth, and I am her otorno, I cannot hide from her what she has wanted to know her whole life! And then there is the Games in the middle of all this! I... I need help. I need another way to tell her... any ideas?HEY! STOP LAUGHING!'

Vayeyla was bent over, failing miserably to conceal her giggles. 'I am sorry...I am just picturing the hound pinning you to the floor... Ai, it's just like travelling back in time!'

'What do you mean?' Kyelaeron tried to sound annoyed, but was too curious.

'Back when I was young, in the Years of the Trees, manys a young Lord found themselves a victim of Huan. He scared them all shitless! It was so funny. They would be strutting around, proud and arrogant, and next thing they would be screaming for their mothers! Come to think of it... they were all either Írissë's suitors or her brothers...' Vayeyla shook her head as yet another memory supporting what Kyelaeron had revealed came to mind.

Kyelaeron was more interested in finding out how one _stopped_ said hound from attacking said unfortuate Lords.

'Was anyone able to stop Huan, other than Tyelkormo?' He asked, doubtful he would get the answer he wanted.

'If you ask me, it was probably Tyelkormo who ordered Huan to attack.' Vayeyla shrugged. However, she suddenly gasped as she recalled something she had almost forgotten...

'Prince Turukáno's wedding...' she whispered.

'Huh?' Kyelaeron had no idea where she was going with this.

Vayeyla beamed and shouted 'That's it! I know a way!'

'Slow down! What do you mean?!' Kyelaeron's heart soared, though he tried not to get his hopes up, just in case he was disappointed.

'Okay... to make a long story short...' Vayeyla began. '...Prince Turukáno was getting married and the whispers said Írissë would be next. My family were at the wedding feast of course, including your Atar and Ammë! Anyway, Huan _mysteriously_ broke into the palace and proceeded to pounce on every ner who dared make to ask Írissë to dance. The reception was chaos! No one could control the hound and Tyelkormo was nowhere to be found... at the party that was.'

'Where was he then?' Kyelaeron asked.

Vayeyla's cheeks flushed and she looked like she was about to burst into giggles. 'Tyelkormo was... _with me..._ in the gardens.'

Kyelaeron's expression turned to horrified, Vayeyla wondered was this how her brother would react if he had caught her that night. 'VAYEYLA! NO! Eww that is... you are my Aunt! He is Anya's father... just... just no!'

'Calm down! It was all innocent flirting. There wasn't even a kiss, much to my disappointment. He was just using me as a way to ensure he was not around when _his_ hound wrecked havoc inside!' Vayeyla reassured him.

Kyelaeron mumbled something inaudible before crossing his arms like an overprotective father and muttering 'And what does this have to do with my current predicament.'

Vayeyla smirked. 'Because, mid-conversation someone storms into the garden like a hurricane and next thing, Tyelkormo is screaming like a little girl. I look and see not only Tyelkormo, but Huan too, being dragged by their ears away to a concealed gazebo, where their 'captor' proceeds to scream at them for an eternity. The two then emerge, tails literally and metaphorically between their legs, walking back into the party to apologise, under the ever-watchful eye of their 'Master' if you like! She offered me an arm and we strolled back at our own pace to the party. I remember what she said to me, clear as day... 'Sorry you had to see that, moina. Those two _little girls_ ought to grow up!'

Kyelaeron was stunned. 'Who is this Vala and when can I meet them?' he managed to blurt out.

Vayeyla smirked. 'Her name is Nerdanel, and I can arrange for you to meet her tommorow _,_ if you like.'

Kyelaeron was stupefied, by the revelation of _who_ was able to control Tyelkormo and Huan AND what his Aunt had said about meeting the Princess-by-marriage _tommorow._

'Nerdanel? Tommorow!? Ai Vayeyla I have not a clue how to act in front of royalty! Etiquette is foreign to me, and I have no wish to learn it either!' Kyelaeron crossed his arms stubbornly.

'You _are_ doing it, for Aranya.' Vayeyla insisted. 'Now, lesson one, up you get. I will teach you how to _walk_.'

'I know how to walk.'

'You walk like a cat! Just like your Ammë! You are not dancing! You are _walking!_ You need to float, like a _swan!'_

'So I need to swim?'

'Dont be smart, you know what I am saying!'

'How's this, am I _floating?'_

'Like a sinking boat.'

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

'And THANK YOU TANWË for these AMAZING headbands! I LOOOOOVEEE them, and you, AND I LOVE MY LIFE! I am going to wear them ALLLLL at once!' Siofra exclaimed, spinning and losing her footing and landing on the floor.

Siofra was incredibly drunk.

Tanwë could not help but laugh at her. 'Come on, you better go to bed!'

'I AM in bed!' Siofra answered, proceeding to lie on the floor.

Tanwë shook her head and smiled. 'Are you now?'

Siofra mocked surprise, putting a hand over her forehead. 'Tanwë smiles... she is not angry... it is a MIRACLE!'

'Now now, do not insult the nís who gave you a gift.'

'IT IS NOT AN INSULT!' Siofra was quick to blurt out, turning around, wobbling and waving her arms, poorly imitating some form of gesture. 'It is a _coooompliiiimentttt!_ You are like, the second prettiest nís I have EVER seen. But you have to _smiiillee more!'_

Tanwë did indeed smile at the strange compliment. 'And who is the prettiest nís, then?' Tanwë was extremely curious.

_If she says herself then she will be more 'Tyelko' than Tyelko himself..._

'My AMMË!' Siofra shouted, before yawning. 'Dark hair, deep blue eyes, tall... much taller than me... and she would arrive from the city in a white dress, and I thought the was the most beautiful Lady alive! Atar even called her 'Princess' sometimes but... _yawn.._ I don't think... _yawn..._ she liked it _... yawn._

Siofra conked on the floor and left Tanwë speechless.

_Has she just descibed who I think she has described?..._

_Don't jump to conclusions..._

_Would I be surprised?... Now that I think about it... Ai Valar it was painfully obvious!_

_Don't be ridiculous..._ _Dark hair and blue eyes... sure that could be any Noldo nís!_

_White dress, tall, Tyelko annoying her by using her title..._

_...Followed Nolofinwë..._

_...Aranya... 'Free'..._

_...Írissë... Can it be...?_

**_GRRRRRGRRRRR!_ **

No sooner had the realisation occured to Tanwë than Huan was onto her. She rolled her eyes at him 'You know you have just all but confirmed my suspicions?'

**_GRRRRR!_ **

'Do not worry, her secret is safe with me', Tanwë promised him, scratching behind his ears. Huan wagged his tail.

Tanwë, lost in thought, recalled a Games long ago, a Family Day during which she had paid another Hunter a visit, someone who, like Aranya, had thought she would be spending the day alone...

sSSSssSSSssSSSSSss

_Tirion, Y.T..._

Írissë was bored.

She paced up and down in her tent, at a loss over what to do. It was Family Day today, but she was not expecting any visitors.

_They are probably embarassed at the fact that I was the first to complete the First Trial..._

Tyelko's family were next door. She could hear them from inside her tent, so loud they were. She heard Tyelko's brothers give him advice... most of it daft and useless, but still. She could almost see his Ammë hugging him, and his Atar clapping his shoulder. And little Ambarussa asking a million questions all at once, all while the others probably wrestled him to the ground, or smacked his arse... or something incredibly stupid and dumb along those lines.

Írissë _longed_ for that kind of relationship with her family. But it would never work. They would not change their ways and neither would she.

Tyelkormo had offered she go to his tent, said her cousins and Uncle and Aunt would be more than happy to see her. But Írissë said perhaps later... _Just in case._

 _Just in case the impossible happens and they finally see sense..._ She thought bitterly.

She quickened her pacing and grew more and more agitated. She restrained herself enough to not smash anything, but the tent took a few kicks.

She stopped as she heard the tent flap open. She turned, trying to not raise her hopes too much.

She was pleasantly surprised to see a friend stroll into the tent.

'Tanwë!' she exclaimed, before putting on a smug expression. 'Wrong tent. You will find your lover next door!'

'Moryo is _not_ my lover!' Tanwë was quick to whisper harshly. 'That was just _one_ night! Next time I see Curvo I am going to kill him!'

'Don't worry, from what I hear Moryo lost his cool at him more than once. Curvo now has a bruised eye, in fact.

Curvo had told everyone about how he had seen Moryo and Tanwë together the night of the opening ceremony. Tanwë felt the urge to storm into the tent next door and give the little gossiping shit a piece of her mind.

Írissë laughed at her conflicted expression. 'Ai, let me guess, you are debating whether to wait until they leave Tyelko's tent to meet Moryo, or just barge right in there right now and kiss him like there is no-...'

'Shut up!' Tanwë snapped. That was what Írissë loved about her. Tanwë showed her true emotions. She was not fake like most of the other níssi in Tirion. She did not give Írissë special treatment because she was a Princess. And that was _wonderful._

Tanwë's expression lightened significantly however, all of a sudden. She smirked, and pointed to the floor near Írissë's bed. 'I see I am not the only one who has been busy!'

Írissë turned around. _Oh..._

Thank Eru none of her family were here to see _those_ lying in the floor...

...Tyelkormo's _pants_.

'I... ah... those are _not_ mine!' was all Írissë could think to say.

'I know they are not yours!' Tanwë laughed 'But tell me, Írissë, who _do_ they belong to?'

'I have no idea how they got there.' Írissë blatantly lied. 'Wait what are you doing!?'

Tanwë held up the pants and 'inspected' them, 'Ooh, a fine specimen! Nice slim legs and then _Bam!_ Look at the size of that ass! It has completely stretched the fabric to its max! These must look good on him, literally skin tight!'

'Ai please stop!' Írissë tried to grab the pants off Tanwë, but failed.

'Lets see what's in the pockets...' Tanwë smirked.

'NO!' Írissë made another desperate attempt to grab the pants. She had no idea what Tyelko kept in his pockets, it could literally be anything.

Soon she was chasing Tanwë around the tent.

Amid the squeals and laughter and running, Tanwë managed to reach into the pocket. 'Aha! I got something.' She jumped onto the bed. Írissë braced herself. Tanwë's smirk fell as she opened her palm 'Horse feed? Eww why would he put this in his pocket?

'Because some neri are incredibly dumb.' Írissë laughed, relieved horse meal was the only thing there, and nothing more. 'So dumb they leave their pants behind!'

Little did Tanwë know that Tyelkormo had been woken by Huan that morning as he lay in bed... Írissë's bed. He just about had time to run out the back of the tent and crawl under, diving into his own bed and faking reverie as his brothers barged in his tent door.

_Where would he be without that hound mothering him constantly!?_

Tanwë smirked, and threw the pants out of sight, under the bed. She pulled out a bottle of mirúvorë from a small bag she carried. 'Come on, let's drink. We have your First trial to celebrate!'

'Although we did celebrate that last night, and the night before, and the night-...'

'I can drink this all by myself?' Tanwë offered.

'Don't you dare!' Írissë grabbed the bottle and poured them each a glass 'To Tanwë and Moryo!' Írissë smirked. Tanwë scowled.

'To Írissë and horse whisperer!' she muttered, before downing her glass. Írissë laughed. 'Horse whisperer' was a surprisingly accurate description.

'So any news from the city?' Írissë asked.

'As a matter of fact, yes.' Tanwë smiled. 'I have acquired a small fortune in winnings- from betting on the champion of the First Trial!'

'You bet on me?' Írissë asked, flattered.

'Of course I bet on you! Not only are you an amazing fighter, and my friend, but the odds you would do well were so low! And so I bet... _alot._ And now, because of your success the odds have gone up. So that means if you do win, the only people who will get a great deal of money are the ones who bet on you from the start!' Tanwë was delighted with her winnings.

'Well!' Írissë exclaimed, impressed. 'If that is not karma then what is? All those who doubted me will be sorry now! And I hope my family finally learn to stop underestimating me!'

Tanwë placed an arm on Írissë's shoulder. 'Írissë, they do not doubt you.'

'Then why are they not here? On Family Day?'

'I would say it has something to do with the punishments.' Tanwë grinned wryly.

'Punishments?' Írissë questioned. 'What punishments.'

'I was not the only one to bet on you. There were a few more who found themselves with a great deal more dosh than they bet. Findékáno, Turukáno and Arakáno to be precise.'

Írissë was speechless.

'My brothers... they bet... on _me?'_

Tanwë smiled, delighting in being the deliverer of good news. 'Of course they bet on you! All the times they were sent to fetch you from Fëanáro and Nerdanel's home, and stumbled upon you taking on five Fëanorions at once! They know how good you are Írissë! And they are proud. Finno was jumping and screaming like an idiot at the Trial. And Arakáno was just as bad. And Turukáno actually _shouted_ for once!

'You are having me on!' Írissë shook her head. 'No way Turukáno would do that.'

'I am telling the truth! Take it or leave it.' Tanwë assured her. 'Anyway, they all made a fortune from their wagers on you, even little Arakáno. Unfortunately, Arakáno was so excited he could not keep it secret for long, that his brothers had taken him to a bookmarker.. and... well you know how your Ammë feels about gambling.'

'Ai Valar.' Írissë felt nothing but sympathy for her brothers. 'Are they still alive?'

'Yes, but all their money has been given to charity, though Findékáno did invest in some new golden braids before he got caught, so he has that to show for it. The three of them are to clean the kitchens from top to bottom for the morning. They sent me here to keep you company in the meantime!'

'My Eru!' Írissë could not believe what she had been told. Her brothers... they truly had believed in her... They felt she had a chance...

It meant the world and more. Írissë _never_ cried. And on the rare occasions she did it was in frustration, not because of some fluffy little act.

But now... now she could not help it. The belonging she wished for all her life was coming true... Her brothers... they saw her as their _equal._ The were proud of who she was, not ashamed, not wishing change her.

'You okay?' Tanwë questioned, knowing the answer.

Írissë laughed and cried. 'I have never been better!'

Tanwë beamed. 'Your Atar is coming around also. I can see it, he is trying so hard to act like he disapproves of this, but, well he kind of messed up that act when he got asked to leave the royal box, apparently he was being 'too _colourful'_ with his choice of language, when that warrior tried to trip you up!'

'Stop! NO WAY!' Írissë cried even harder. This was all too good to be true. Now all of her family approved and respected her, and her choices!

Well _almost_ all of her family...

As if sensing her thoughts, Tanwë referenced the one person Írissë had yet to win over. Her _Ammë._

'Lady Anairë has not changed.' Tanwë admitted reluctantly. Írissë felt her heart sink, and then scolded herself for caring so much.

'Ai, well I guess four out of five is not bad.' Írissë shrugged, pretending to be indifferent.

Tanwë was not fooled. 'You know... when I decided to try my luck and land myself the job of palace accountant, my family were _furious._ And most of all my Ammë. She said I ought to act more ladylike, and put my time and effort into finding a suitable husband! They said what chance did I, a girl who had only just come of age, stand agains all those experienced neri. They thought I would fail. That I would embarass the House of the Swallow. So I made sure I did not fail. I wanted that position more than any of those old idiots did, and I finished the exam in record time, the only nís who showed up. And I got the job. And foolish naive me thought that would be enough for them, that I would walk home to open arms, apologies, congratulations, that they would be proud. I didn't. It took time for them to accept who I was. My siblings came around first, then my Atar... and finally, Ammë, _years_ later, after tons of praise and hard work and sweat and tears! But now Ammë accepts who I am. It could take time, Írissë, but Anairë will someday see how special you are, and she will take pride in you. Wait and see.'

'I will probably be waiting until Dagor Dagorath.' Írissë muttered sarcastically, but deep down took hope from her friends tale. _Perhaps someday, Ammë and I will be close_ _again, like we used to be..._

Suddenly, the tent flap burst open. A boy, who had not quite reached his adolescence ran into the room at the speed of lightning, only to tumble onto the floor.

Before anyone could so much as say a word, he had picked himself up and dusted himself off.

Voices and laughter echoed from just outside the tent.

'Arakáno, you big impulsive eejit!'

'For Eru's sake hanno, your good clothes are ruined!'

Arakáno ignored his older brothers. 'NÉSA!' He shouted, before sprinting over to Írissë. 'YOU WERE AMAZING! AT THE TRIAL! YOU WERE SO FAST AND OH MY ERU THE ARCHERY! YOU ARE SOO GOOD! AND YOU EVEN BET TYELKORMO! ATAR HAS BEEN RUBBING THAT INTO FËANÁRO'S ARROGANT FACE-...'

'Arakáno _be quiet!'_ In stepped Turukáno, with baby Itarillë held tightly to his chest. 'You do realise our uncle and cousins are _next door!'_

'Oops!' Arakáno muttered, not in the least bit sorry.

'Well well, if it isn't the little rebel herself!' Findékáno smirked, before crossing the room and enveloping Írissë in his arms. 'Congratulations little sister!'

Írissë laughed at Finno's dramatic antics. 'Thank you hanno. And thank you all for coming to see me!' She ruffled Arakáno's hair fondly.

'Of course we were coming to see you! It is Family Day! You have made us all very proud, Írissë.' Turukáno assured her. Itarillë began to stir and cooed as her Atar kissed her head and rocked her back and forth. Írissë smilled at the sight. She suddenly felt guilty. Since her niece was born, most of the time she had been away in the woods, with Tyelko. She had only seen the babe a few brief times, from a distance more often than not.

As if reading her thoughts, Turukáno looked to his sister. 'Would you like to hold your niece, _Aunt_ Írissë?' There was a playful twitch on his lips as he said the words.

Írissë was _not_ prepared to hold a baby. What if she broke it?

'I... I... think... oh no, NO! ERU TURUKÁNO, do not let her go! Ai.. if I drop her it is your fault!'

The little bundle was softly, but forcefully placed into Írissë's arms. Írissë felt _severely_ uncomfortableat first, worried she would drop the precious little thing, but then she looked down to find two big blue eyes staring up at her. Her heart melted. A tiny little hand wrapped itself into her hair. 'Hello.' Írissë whispered. A beautiful little giggle and a toothless smile was the response she received.

'See Írissë...' Findékáno began '...there is nothing to be afraid of!'

'Holding Itarillë is _easy.'_ Arakáno insisted, showing off the fact that he had held the baby _before_ Írissë had.

'The two of you cannot talk.' Turukáno snapped. 'You _both_ came close to dropping her... one of you more than once.' He gave Findékáno a pointed look.

'It is not my fault! She kept wriggling!' Findékáno defended himself like a child.

'She is _beautiful...'_ Írissë whispered, lost in the adorable baby's eyes.

Tanwë cleared her throat, reminding them all she was still there. 'Well, I have stayed far longer than what is polite! But I blame little Itarillë's adorableness! I will see you boys around. Best of luck in the second trial, Írissë!' Tanwë addressed the Nolofinwions as if she outranked them, not the other way round.

'Thank you, for _everything_.' Írissë said sincerely.

'Bye Tanwë!' Arakáno beamed and waved.

Turukáno smirked. 'Give Morifinwë my regards!'

'And tell him he owes me one thousand gold pieces!' Findékáno added, looking smug in triumph.

Tanwë rolled her eyes and proceeded to make a rather rude hand gesture to Nolofinwë's two eldest, who only laughed.

'One thousand gold pieces?' Írissë questioned, eyebrow raised. 'For what?'

Findékáno had never looked so proud. 'Before the First Trial, he bet on his sibling, and I bet on mine!'

Írissë laughed. 'For Eru's sake Finno! One thousand pieces is ridiculous! You are lucky I won! Do not do that again! Do not make yourself broke for my sake!'

'One thousand is nothing.' Turukáno whispered. 'Atar and Fëanáro bet _ten_ _thousand!'_

 _'WHAT!?'_ Írissë was becoming alarmed. 'Okay someone has to keep those two away from each other for the remainder of the Games! Before we know it they will have the Palace gambled away!

'Oh don't worry...' Arakáno began '... _Ammë_ found out. Lets just say Atar will not be gambling again any time soon!'

'And neither will _you.'_ Findékáno said begrudgingly. 'Not after all the trouble your wagging tongue got us into!'

SSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

When Kyelaeron had acquired the basics of propriety, albeit to an average extent, he and Vayeyla spent the rest of the evening talking. A great deal of tea was drunk, mostly by Vayeyla.

'You will not believe it, but business has gone up tenfold since _you_ , nephew, played in the opening ceremony.'

'You are joking?' Vayeyla was right, Kyelaeron was far too humble to believe he was responsible.

'It gets better.' His Aunt smirked. 'Since the First Trial, people have been buying flutes as though they are going out of style, and a great deal of them have not one musical note in their head!'

'So... they just buy a flute.. because of _me? '_

Such a thing was bizarre to Kyelaeron.

'Yes you silly! I aught to give you half the profit!'

'That would make you a very good Aunt and a very bad business person!'

'True!' Vayeyla laughed.

'It is so strange...' Kyelaeron began '...I told only Aranya of you and of my Atar, and yet, the Games begin and suddenly everyone knows _exactly_ who I am. The minute I leave camp I am bombarded with compliments and exclamations and questions... It is a little overwhelming to say the least.' He sighed, hoping he did not sound ungrateful.

'That is fame.' Vayeyla sighed 'And part of the reason I ran away from it all. Just, think positively about it. The people compliment you because you earned their praise, they know you are your Atar's son because you _are._ Not just in looks, but in mannerisms and personality. He was much loved by the people, as are you.'

'You are right, I should enjoy it while it lasts.' Kyelaeron admitted 'And I do not mean to be ungrateful, but, it hurts sometimes to think that these random strangers on the street knew my Atar better than I did.'

Vayeyla reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze. 'Ai! I know. What I would give for him to know you were here, or for the two of you to have met...'

Kyelaeron closed his eyes and bowed his head for a brief moment. Vayeyla's heart filled with pity.

'Vayeyla?' he asked, as he raised his head.

'Yes?' she replied, at this stage willing to do anything he asked.

'What was Atar's name?' He looked at her with the hopeful eyes of a child.

Vayeyla was taken aback. _He does not know? How?_

'You do not know?' Vayeyla exclaimed. 'I thought you knew!'

'No' Kyelaeron shrugged casually. When I was with Ammë, he was always just 'Atar.'

'Did you not read about his Games in that book you were telling me about?'

'He was in Tyelkormo and Írissë's Games. The book was in Oromë's library. The chapter on _that_ Games had been conveniently ripped out.'

'Did _no one_ mention his name on the street?' Vayeyla honestly did not know how Kyelaeron had avoided this little piece of knowledge until now.

'Again, it was all 'Your _Atar_ would be proud' or 'You are the spitting image of your _father'..._ and if I am honest, I tried to avoid his name coming up in conversation, because I wanted to hear it from _you.'_

Vayeyla's heart melted. _Ai you poor lamb!_

She pulled him into an embrace, and had to stand on her tip toes to whisper into his ear.

Kyelaeron almost felt dizzy as Vayeyla told him a name he had waited to hear his whole life...

'Your Atar's name is... _'_ Vayeyla began, speaking softly, smiling fondly at the sound of the name she had not the need to speak for a long, long time.

'... _Ehtelë_...'

'...His name is _Ehtelë_...'

She pretended not to notice her nephew clinging a little tighter to her, nor did she react to the discreet hand he lifted to his face, as he wiped a tear from his father's- _Ehtelë's-_ eyes...

SSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

_Halls of Mandos, First Age 505..._

'Ahhhh noo **LET GO OF ME!** I NEED TO GET IN HERE! **I NEED TO SEE HER!** I KNOW **SHE WON'T MIND!'**

Three Maiar half dragged, half carried Pityo away from the wing of the Halls which ordinary fëa, like him, were forbidden from entering. He was not-so-gently thrown on the ground a few corridors from from his restricted destination. He cursed in frustration. This was his fifth attempt to get in. However, he had got no further than the door each time.

_If Telvo were here we would be in there by now..._

Pityo had been used to wrecking havoc with his twin. The two of them worked as a team, and they _always_ succeeded. Alone, he had failed and it was disheartening. He felt as though he was losing his touch at mischief.

This, combined with the fact he was _desperate_ to meet _her,_ had him in very poor humor indeed.

He was not completely sure why he wanted to see her so desperately. Finally meet her. But he knew he _needed_ to.

He should probably return to the tapestries. His cousins were going to kill him.. _._ or, whatever was the equivalent to one already dead...However, he was not in the mood to face any more tapestries. He had seen quite enough the past few days, since he entered the Halls.

He shuddered as he recalled all that had happened to his brothers.

 _I really should not have started with Thangorodrim..._ Flashes of what he had seen done to Maitimo flooded his mind. Defeated, knowing he could not trace time, he shrugged them away, using ignorance as a coping mechanism.

For a little while, the pain went away. But all too soon it returned.

What had happened to his brothers? He had idolised all of them, he and Telvo. They all had raised him. All were so brilliant and bright and each had their own part to contribute to the world. They were all gifted. Heroes, to the eyes of significantly younger Ambarussa.

What they had become _terrified_ him. Eru's warning was well said.

Maedhros was strong and firm as a leader, but _Maitimo's_ gentleness and composure were all gone. Pityo saw dark, dark nights in which his eldest brother was driven to near insanity by nightmares and flashbacks.

Maglor was probably the most unchanged. But war plans and extreme training and leadership has taken his toll. He rarely had time for music anymore. _Makalaurë_ would never have let anything take him away from his harp... but now the oath did.

Celegorm...Ai Valar Celegorm was in bad shape indeed. He was dangerous, he was broken, he had nothing to lose. He would stop at nothing. _Tyelkormo_ had once leapt from the top of a huge tree to save a baby bird, who had not mastered flying. He had risked paralysis. Now not even the birds would talk to him.

Caranthir... Caranthir was as harsh as ever. But now, he listened to logic more than emotion. That was not good. As he planned battles, he was willing to sacrifice any amount of soldiers for victory. Any soldier that fell behind was left behind. _Carnistir_ would have crossed the Helcaraxë to save someone loyal, someone he held responsibility over, though not wise he was morally in tune, and driven by his ferocity. Now... now he was cold, calculated, apathetic.

Curufin... Pityo felt no regret in calling Curufin a sly bastard. He was selfish, arrogant, proud. His silver tongue had indirectly taken down an entire kingdom for Eru's sake. He cared more about the oath than his own son. _Atarinkë_ had been proud, arrogant and sly also. But his soul be thrice damned if he would not have done _anything_ , including letting go of his pride, for his family, especially Tyelepe.

And... Amras... Pityo let a sob escape him. Amras was a good leader. The oath caused the least amount of evil in him out of all of his brothers. Amras was kind and gentle, but fierce and strong, able to lead his people to safety, humble enough to know when retreat was necessary...

...And Amras was an empty shell. Always in pain. A broken bond with his twin driving him to near insanity come nightfall. He had hallucinations. He willingly took stimulants and medicines to make him forget. He never smiled. He had not laughed in over five hundred years. A _Telvo_ that did not laugh or smile... a _Telvo_ without his _wit._ A _Telvo_ who never pranked or cracked a joke...

Pityo felt a tear roll down his cheek.

Telvo's change was probably the least alarming, the least dangerous, save for Kano perhaps. He was a threat to no one but himself, and yet when he needed to, he could hold it together. Telvo struggled, but his head always stayed above the water.

And yet, it was Telvo's demise that, out of all his brothers' hurt Pityo most.

_Because it was all my fault... Unlike the others, Telvo is broken entirely because of ME..._

It did not help to remember _that_ night at Losgar. He and Telvo had disagreed for the first time ever. They argued. Pityo wanted to go home. Telvo said that was betrayal to their family and cause. Needless to say their quarell did not end well, in more ways than one. Neither had time to apologise or make amends before...

Pityo shuddered again as he heard his twin screaming in his head and felt the flames closing around.

He buried his head in his knees. He did not know how he felt towards his father. Then again, the ner that set alight the ship he was on was a far cry from the ner that nearly lost his life in panic each time Ambarussa went too close to the forge furnaces for his liking.

Just like his brothers, his Atar had changed.

_Perhaps I should give up trying to meet her... return to my cousins... behave for once..._

_...Hmmm maybe I am doing this for Atar, the old Atar... Valar he would probably burn me again if I hadn't so much as tried to see her._

_I don't even know her..._

'Only one way to change that, Indyo.' A mischievous voice sounded out of nowhere. Pityo's head shot up, but not a soul was around him. Was he going insane?

Laughter. Melodic. A nís's voice. Coming from the room Pityo had attempted to break into...

Pityo ran back the direction he had been thrown, almost forgetting about the angry Maiar...

...until he came across them, _asleep_...or more accurately _knocked out._ His eyes widened. He heard the laughter again... that voice, the one that had just called him 'Indyo'... it could not be _her..._ could it?

_I never imagined her as the type to casually knock out a few guards..._

More laughter. But this time a figure appeared before him, a face to the laughter.

Pityo gasped. It was _her._

She possessed an uncanny resemblence to his niece, but they were not identical. Her eyes were like his Atar's, shining with brilliance. Her voice reminded Pityo of Kano... though it was different. She was not very tall, but she poised herself like a queen, making Pityo feel as if he was the one being towered over. And her smile... her smile reminded him of Telvo... and of himself.

Míriel þerindë proceeded to flash a smile at her grandson, as if proving him correct.

Pityo somehow found his voice. 'G-G-Grandmother?Ahh... _Hello._ Ahh _.._. by any chance do you know how those guards conveniently fell asleep?'

Míriel smirked. _Tyelko's smirk..._

'Who do you think your Atar got his rebellious streak from? Finwë? Oh please!' She rolled her eyes. 'And I suppose you and your twin got your humor from my dear husband too?'

Pityo snorted at the absurdity of Finwë ever acting rebellious or mischievous.

'I thought so' Míriel smiled knowingly. She nodded towards the Maiar. 'They will be fine, don't worry. I could not stay cooped up to that loom for much longer anyway! It is about time I had a break. And I could not let all of your 'diversions' go to waste! Now come child, you and I had better hide if we wish for some quality time without interruptions. We have a _long_ time to catch up on after all!'

Pityo, tried not to be overwhelmed. Míriel talked _very fast._ And part of him could not believe this was _the_ Míriel þerindë in front of him.

'Quit that brooding. Of course it is me!' Míriel half frightened him to death with her mind-reading.

Pityo gave in. He stopped thinking and allowed himself be dragged to a secluded nook in the Halls.

sSSsSSssSsSSsSsSsSsSs

_Meanwhile, at the Tapestries. .._

'Wow...Ammë... she is so tough! She had all those proud Lords hanging on every word!'

'If you think she is tough now Finno, you should look at the tapestries of her past. You will be shocked at where she came from and all she had to overcome when she was only a little girl.'

'AI ARANYA! I am sorry baby! Please don't cry! Ai Alqualondë was a mistake... my second biggest regret...'

'Oh look! The otorno is from the House of the Fountain! Turukáno's friend's son!'

'Was that not obvious Finno?'

'I haven't been here as long as you Aro!'

'Tanwë, THANK ERU! Bless that nís! My baby won't spend Family Day alone!'

'Hahaha look at this Finno, Huan has the otorno scared silly!'

'I don't think any of us have a right to laugh at the poor otorno. We all found ourselves in his predicament many times with that blasted hound.'

'Hmmm and of course Tyelko found it hilarious.'

''Wow technically Tyelko is our law-brother.'

'That makes us the brothers of a peacock'

'Ha! That's funny because he can actually talk peacock.'

'Oh shut up you two! Stop wrecking my head and leave Meldo alone! I am sick of this constant teasing!'

'OOOH Írissë is getting defensive.'

'Silence Finno! If anyone is a peacock it is you! What with all those golden braids!'

'Hey hey! I always kept my shirt on, unlike the peacock.'

'Alright Finno, I think I am going to take a trip to the tapestries of the Lord's private quarters in Himring!'

'NOO! I AM SORRY NÉSA! I WILL STOP!'

'Wow Finno, you have a lot of tea to spill. So when you and Neylo-...'

'PLEASE SHUT UP ÍRISSË!'

'You asked for it.'

'Finno, Írissë... where did Pityo go!?'

'AI VALAR NOT AGAIN!'ĺĺ

'WHEN WILL HE EVER LEARN?!'

'TYPICAL STUPID AND STUBBORN FËANORIONS!'

'Haha, you and I know ALL about those Fëanorions, don't we Finno?

'HEY! Can I get a Maia over here? My sister needs to be gagged.'

'Come on you two, we need to find our cousin before he brings these Halls tumbling to the ground.'

'You are right Aro. Those Fëanorions really can cause the earth to shake can't they Finno?'

'ÍRISSË!'

SSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

'NO...you did NOT!' Pityo had not laughed this much since... well since the Years of the Trees...

'I did. He was far too self conscious. He needed to stop caring what people thought.'

'And throwing his clothes down the river while the two of you skinny dipped was the best way to build confidence?'

'Well... not exactly... but it was funny!'

Pityo did not know whether to cringe or laugh at the image of his ever serene and proper grandfather making his way home entirely in the nip. 'You are mad ..., no wonder the respectable ones think our side of the family a little crazy!'

Míriel tried to smile but frowned. Pityo wanted to slap himself. Mentioning their 'side' of the family was an indirect reference to Indis...

...they had avoided that topic up to now.

'Don't be sorry child, we would have to have mentioned _her_ at some point.' Míriel sighed. 'And now we share a grandchild. Imagine!'

'If it is any consolation, my brothers and I never saw Indis as our grandmother.' Pityo really did not know what else to say.

Míriel smirked again. 'And if any of you had as much as dared acknowledge her as anything close to your grandmother, I know your Atar would have come close to sending you here to me!'

'True' Pityo shook his head wryly. 'He never let any of us forget you.'

'Ai Fëanáro...' Míriel shook her head sadly. 'His biggest fault was that he loved too fiercely... too much fire... when he was orphaned he could not cope...'

'Yes he loved us so much he damned us forever.' Pityo answered bitterly. He understood his father's grief, but it was no excuse. Look at what Fëanáro had done to his sons, look at what they had become... all that suffering... just because _he_ felt grief.

Look at all the grief they received as a result.

'I do not mean to justify what he did.' Míriel sighed. 'His actions tore our people apart. And yet... I cannot blame him. I fear it was my fault...'

'Your fault!? ... how are you to blame? You were not there!' Pityo exclaimed.

'Exactly. I was not there. I was petty. I saw my husband fall for another on the tapestries and in spite I refused re-embodiment. When Finwë died, of all the times Fëanáro needed me, it was then he needed me most. And I was not there.' Míriel scolded herself, listing off reasons in a manner that told Pityo this was not the first time she had done so.

'My mother was not even able to make him stay. Do not take offense, but if Ammë failed, I doubt you would have succeeded.'

'Perhaps.' Míriel shrugged. 'But the love one has for a spouse is entirely different than the love of a mother. The love your Atar had for Nerdanel was probably far stronger than the love he held for me, and yet, it was more fragile. A paradox. That is what romantic love is.' Míriel's eyes went distant as she strayed a little off topic.

'Do you resent Indis, as Atar did?' Pityo was half afraid of his grandmother's reaction to the question, but he was also extremely curious.

Míriel smiled sadly. 'No. That poor nís, the amount of grief my son gave her and she never once lashed out, always rising above it. Had I been in her predicamentI would have _killed_ him. He could be such a _little_ _shit_ at times! '

'So... you do not mind that Finwë did not wait for you to return?' Pityo questioned.

Míriel raised an eyebrow. 'If you listened in your history lessons you would know I refeused re-embodiment _before_ Finwë remarried.'

'And if you remembered the tapestries correctly, you would see that Finwë had fallen for Indis _before_ you refused re-embodiment.' Pityo smirked back at her, not letting Míriel away without an explanation.

Míriel rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. 'Alright. You want answers. You and your twin were always too curious for your own good!'

'We were just embracing our Noldor heritage.' Pityo shrugged cheekily.

Míriel gave him a pointed look, before narrowing her eyes and stating, 'Fine. I can see your head brimmed with questions. I will tell you the life story of Míriel þerindë on one condition. You must answer any question a throw at you, honestly.'

'Seems fair.' Pityo shrugged. What did he have to hide from Míriel anyway? She had probably seen each moment of his life on the tapestries.

'Very well.' Míriel answered. 'I only have one question. Why did you come to me? Why go to so much trouble, you said yourself you did not know me?'

Pityo smirked. 'That was _two_ questions.'

'Don't be a brat.'

'You are my grandmother' was the first answer that came to Pityo's mind.

'Aye. But why not go to Nerdanel's mother? She is not in a restricted part of the Halls. Or your grandfather. Unlike me you actually knew him.'

Pityo shrugged. 'I don't know.'

Míriel gave him a 'not impressed' look. 'That is not an answer.'

Pityo tried again. 'Because... because... Atar would have wanted me to...'

Míriel crossed her arms. 'Keep telling yourself that and someday you might actually believe it. Indyo, you have all but told me you are struggling to forgive your father for all he has done. Forgive me if I am skeptical that you would visit me to honour him. Think _harder.'_

Pityo inhaled sharply in frustration. Why did he want to see Míriel so desperately? He had not even known why before he tried to break into the looms. All he knew was that he wanted to meet with someone who even remotely knew how he felt-...

 _Oh..._ Pityo thought. _That is why..._

Pityo's eyes widened as he realised just _why_ he was here, seeking for and receiving a surreal sort of comfort from a grandmother he never had.

He sighed again. How to say this... How to make her comprehend.

'You and I...' he began steadily '...In a way... our fates were similar... They were tragic...unintentional... and...' Pityo winced as he struggled to speak the final similarity '...and they were caused by the same person...'

Silence.

Míriel's expression hardened, it went cold. Pityo instantly regretted what he had said... was it insensitive? Perhaps. But it was the truth... and... and it was deep down how he _felt._ Burning alive was traumatic...But burning alive because of your father was even more so. And no one Pityo knew of knew how that felt... except his grandmother. The nís who burned in a different way because of Fëanáro. The nís whose fëa was so consumed by the fire in his father's fëa that she succumbed to the damage done to her body and fëa... as Pityo had succumbed...

 _It isn't that crazy of a theory... is it?_ Pityo thought to himself.

Míriel still had not moved. Nor did she make a sound.

Pityo was about to apologise, tell his grandmother he was sorry, it was very wrong of him to remind her of her death and even pretend to know what she went through. From a more ordinary point of view, their deaths had nothing in common...

'Grandmother I-...'

Pityo did not have time to finish. He found himself pulled into a fierce embrace that would have stopped him from breathing, had he been able to.

_Siofra's hug..._

_'_ Ai my poor, sweet Indyo...' Míriel exclaimed, as a tear rolled down her cheek. 'I am sorry Indyo... I understand how you feel, for I felt as you do once also... you want someone to have felt what you have, you want _empathy_. But the thing is... I do not know what you feel, nor the pain you went through, and visa versa. I can give you _sympathy_ but not empathy _._

'For your Atar did not kill me, though many, including him, believed that. _I_ was the tool of my own destruction.'

'What?' Pityo gasped, eyes wide. '...No... you did not...'

'It was an accident!' Míriel was quick to add. 'You see, at heart I am a nís of craft. I never was good at being Queen. All I cared about was my work. The things I could make, the endless possibilities. How far could I go? How could I improve? I was never satisfied. And I climbed higher and higher and worked more and more and-... sorry... I am getting carried away.'

'You sound _exactly_ like Atar, Ammë, Kano, Moryo and Curvo.' Pityo chipped in.

Míriel nodded. 'The craftspeople of the family, see. Anyway, Finwë was _nothing_ like me. Where I was extreme and overactive and sometimes a little obsessive, he was calm, serene, polite. A true gent. A wise leader. We had nothing in common really, but, you know what the smiths say about the magnets, _opposites attract.'_ We were madly in love.'

'But when I was pregnant I made a fatal error. You see, I did not see your Atar as a child, a person... nay. I saw him as a _creation._ A _masterpiece._ I wanted _my_ baby to be _perfect._ To be the brightest star of all. And so I poured my soul into my 'creation', as Fëanáro poured his into the Silmarils. And I got carried away. Soon all my strength and brilliance and life was contained within my child. And the moment he left my body...' Míriel looked away, not wanting to finish, knowing they both knew the ending.

Míriel looked up at Pityo again, eyes shining with tears. 'So _NEVER, EVER_ believe that your Atar was responsible for my demise. It was my fault. My obsessive, eager, ambitious and relentless personality is to blame... And the worst part is that I physically passed those traits to my son. And look what happened.'

Pityo made to speak some words of assurance and comfort. Míriel was blaming herself for the entire Flight of the Noldoli...That was not right. There was more to the Flight than just Fëanáro's personality and nature... Moringotto for example...

Before he could speak however, Míriel was continuing her tale. 'And then I refused to be re-embodied, because, yes, I saw Finwë falling for another and... she was a perfect Queen. Regal, polite, ladylike. Willing to do her duties and not run from them to her craft... And Finwë seemed happy. Fëanáro was almost grown... he did not _need_ me, or so I wrongly thought at the time. And I admit, I was bitter and stubborn and furious at my husband. How dare he? Death did not invalidate a marriage! I was hurt and... I wanted to hurt him back... and so I refused to leave here.'

'And then when the darkness came... and my son lost his father... and I saw the extent of the damage growing up without his mother had done to him... I was inconsolable.'

'And who cradled me as I cried my eyes out, who stood by my side as a spouse is meant to, who rocked me like a baby as I saw my greatest creation become tainted and fey? The ner I fell in love with. The ner I had hurt so much. The ner who sat by my lifeless body for years. The ner who loved another, but still was true in his marriage to me, who waited until I refused to leave this place before marrying again.' Míriels eyes shined in sorrow.

'So you made peace?' Pityo asked hopefully.

'Aye. We forgave each other. And together, we made one final desperate attempt to save our son. Finwë had only just died, he would never be able to be re-embodied so quick, it was Melkor who killed him after all. Me, on the other hand, I was fully healed, and we pleaded with Námo to let me go. Perhaps the one person who could tame the fire within Fëanáro was the one who ignited it, as she carried him all those years ago. And Finwë happily traded away his freedom, until Dagor Dagorath, so I would have a chance, so _Fëanáro_ had a chance if redemption. But it was too late.'

Míriel closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.

'But by the time I was re-embodied, Alqualondë had already taken place. The Valar were angry, furious. I would receive no aid from them in crossing the sea. As for the Helcaraxë... I knew in my heart my son did not have thirty years left, not at the rate his insanity was rampaging. There was nothing for me in Aman. And so I returned to the one thing I was good at. _Craft_. I became a handmaiden of Vairë.'

 _'_ And here, Indyo, is the closest thing to empathy I can give you... Losgar was the first tapestry I wove for Vairë. I saw the flames, heard your screams, smelt the stench of smoke. To this day, it is the most horrific thing I have woven. Yes, to me it was worse than weaving my son as he died, it was worse than the thirty years of torture your eldest brother endured, worse than the countless battles and tragedies that have occurred since. And that is not to make less of all those horrors... Ai... I don't know. I think its because of was how pathetic it all was. An accident. A stupid and reckless act of paranoia, carried out by the ner who was supposed to protect you. There are many reasons... Anyway, when I saw you trapped, with no hope... I ran. I almost died again, after all Finwë had sacrificed to set me free...' Míriel looked on her youngest grandchild with an expression that told him she would have happily taken his place on that ship if she could have.

'I know my death was horrific...' Pityo stated '...But... it may sound strange... but that does not bother me. What bothers me is that there is no one who really understands what I went through. No one here knows what it feels like to firstly burn alive and then spend years upon years in the Void. Perhaps Atar would, but he is not here and... Ai Valar, I do not know if I would talk to him even if he was here. My point is, in order to heal, I feel as though I need someone to feel what I feel and... hear my thoughts... and...' Pityo drifted off as he realised just _who_ he really needed.

Míriel, as perceptive as ever, knew what direction Pityo's thoughts were headed. She grabbed his shoulders. 'Look at me Pityafinwë Ambarussa! You are strong. You will heal. But Indyo, you are healing yourself the wrong way! You have to do this entirely _on your own_. You cannot rely on _anyone_ else to heal you. Only you _alone_ can heal yourself. And despite all your similarities, you are not Telvo! Telvo is not you! You are twins, but you also both have to be your own people!'

'Perhaps' Pityo whispered, as he pondered on Míriel's words. 'But I do not know what else to do... All my life... I had Telvo. He always knew _exactly_ how I was feeling, understood and pain or emotion felt and I knew how he felt and... we were _always_ together, everything we did was the same. Maybe too much, because now I do not know how to be my own person... I.. I feel so _alone!_ I _need_ someone to know exactly how I feel. I know no other way of 'healing' _'_

'You were very young when the skies grew dark. Neither of you Ambarussa had truly grown up. Chances are you both would have become more independent and individual had you been given a chance. Do not beat yourself up over it. Use this time to get used to coping without Telvo. And when you are released, the two of you can heal together, but you will both know that you can survive without the other.' Míriel's words were seeped with wisdom.

' _If_ I am released.' Pityo muttered skepitaly. 'Apparently I have to pass some test... and well... I haven't been here a week and look at the amount of rules I have broken!'

'I have faith in you.' Míriel assured him. 'And if they do not let you go, Námo will have _me_ to deal with!'

Her eyes glinted dangerously and Pityo could have sworn he saw his father in them.

'Ai!' Pityo laughed. 'Now I see where we all get it from!'

'Get what?' Míriel questioned, hands on hips.

'The ability to annoy and antagonise the Valar to no end, just for our own gains!' Pityo smirked.

The two laughed yet again.

_Ambarussa have Míriel's humor..._

_sSSSSsSsSssSsSSSsSsss_

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

Kyelaeron held his head up high and resisted the urge to run for the hills as he strolled into the private room of the Palace.

There was finery all around him like nothing he had ever seen before, yet, in this moment, he cared as much about luxuries as the Hunters cared for rules.

He spied the two Ladies. One with hair that gleamed like fire, arms toned from years of bending stone to her will, eyes that were all too familiar, _Aranya's eyes..._

The other had dark hair, as Noldorin as one could get, she sat so straight and proud it was intimidating. Her facial expression was indifferent but thankfully, _not scowling._ Her deep blue eyes held none of the malice they had previously, in fact, they were _almost_ soft.

_Almost._

Kyelaeron bowed, the way he had been told to, when he reached the seats. 'Ladies Nerdanel and Anairë. I thank you for taking the time to meet with me.' Kyelaeron knew that was not what he was meant to say, but, he was nervous and there was too many damn things to remember! Why not keep things simple and too the point?

Nerdanel smiled encouragingly. Anairë's face remained blank however.

Silence.

'And you are...?' Nerdanel prodded.

_Oh shit, I forgot to say my name!_

'Kyelaeron, your Highness.'

Anairë was almost smug when she asked 'And what title?'

'Ahh, technically Lord... _Lord_... I suppose... kind of...'

'And from where do you hail?'

'The woods.'

'I know of no Noble Houses that live in the woods.'

'Oh you mean where is my House from?... _Tirion_. '

'What House?'

'House of the Fountain.'

'Son of...?'

'Ehtelë and Elenā.'

'And what did you eat for breakfast?'

'I didn't... I was too nervous.'

Kyelaeron, did not pick up on the joke in the last question, so anxious he was. His honest answer caused the too níssi to laugh.

_Ahhh... the last question was her way of saying that she was simply being nosy... Well, laughing is much better than a glare!_

Nerdanel shook her head at Anairë. 'Stop interrogating the poor ner! Ignore her, Kyelaeron, she simply enjoys scaring people too much.'

'Aye, we already know _all_ about you.' Anairë stated, which, for some reason, did not put Kyelaeron at ease one bit.

'Take a seat.' Nerdanel gestured. Kyelaeron did, and felt a little more relaxed.

'Congratulations on your First Trial.' Anairë began 'That was impressive.'

'Thank you.' Kyelaeron said as courteously as he could.

 _'_ 'So tell us why you are here.' Nerdanel probed. 'Amárië said it was urgent.'

'Aye, it is.' Kyelaeron cringed internally. Now for the difficult part. 'There is... something you two ought to know... You may think me mad, but I have proof... It relates to my osellë, Siofra Aranya... I need to tell her what I am about to tell you. But I cannot, for each time I try I am stopped by Huan, who refuses to leave her side. I need you, Lady Nerdanel, if you will, to control Huan. He will listen to you, I am sure. My osellë has longed for the truth her whole life, and now that I know it, I cannot hide it from her. And yet, because of Huan, I cannot tell her either! She should know, and she has every right to!'

Kyelaeron did not miss the way the two níssi sat a little straighter as soon as he had mentioned Siofra Aranya. Did they _know?_

'And what exactly is it that you have to say to us?' Anairë questioned, eyes narrowed.

Kyelaeron exhaled sharply, and decided to just get it over with. 'My osellë's parentage is in question. You may have heard rumours the past few days. None are fully true. I make this statement with hard evidence and I know of three others who can vouch fo me...'

It was as though the world stood still. Kyelaeron decided to let the cat out of the bag.

'Siofra Aranya, my osellë, is the daughter of Prince Tyelkormo and Princess Írissë.'

Silence.

Kyelaeron looked up, only to find Nerdanel and Anairë piercing him with deathly stares. Anairë was almost glaring. Kyelaeron, knowing he was right however, stared back firm and true.

After what felt like an eternity and a half, Anairë _finally_ broke the silence.

'We _know.'_

Kyelaeron almost did a double take. Of all the things, the dreadful, shocking and angry words he thought may be thrown his direction, something so calm and cool as 'we know' was not one of them.

_They know... Ai Valar they know!_

_Why have they done nothing?_

'Why was she _lied_ to, all her life?!' Kyelaeron had to ask the two royals.

Nerdanel looked slightly sorrowful when she answered. 'We did not know. I only discovered who she was the day Vána sent her to my home.'

Kyelaeron kept his firm composure as he stated 'So you understand I need to tell her, as soon as possible, As her otorno I-...'

'No.' The words were cool and sharp and commanding. A tone Kyelaeron would have expected from Anairë, but not Nerdanel, the speaker.

And suddenly Kyelaeron felt bold. They were telling him he could not tell his osellë the truth she so desperately wanted to know? How dare they! They may be her blood relatives, but they did not know Anya as he did.

'Excuse me?' Kyelaeron could not believe the tone he took- with the royals no less. 'Do not tell me to hide this from her! I would be betraying the most important bond in my life! I _will not_ lie to her...'

'She cannot know! Not while the Games are on!' Nerdanel insisted. 'I do not know Siofra as well as you, to my deep regret, but I do know she possesses a trait common to the House of Finwë- impulsiveness. Finding out who her parents are will be a great shock. It will need to be done gently, with time.'

'And on a slightly less important note, think of her Games. We do not want to put Aranya off, she has shown great potential. She has waited five centuries...what is a few more weeks?' Anairë added.

'Have you not heard the rumours!' Kyelaeron stood, in anger, though it came from a need to protect his osellë. 'They are rampaging. No offence to either of you, but there are many who hold little love for Tyelkormo and Írissë. What if they try to harm Aranya?!'

'Yesterday I made a passionate speech with the Noldor council. The result, in short, is that the rumours will die down with time.' Anaire assured. 'And if we confirm now that Aranya is who she is, that will leave her even more open to danger on the streets, what with all the visitors to the city!'

'Huan will protect her.' Nerdanel consoled his worries. 'If someone as skilled as you are cannot get through that hound, what hope does an ordinary ner or nís have?'

'And she is fully capable of defending herself.' Anairë chipped in.

Kyelaeron thought for a moment. 'I understand, what you are saying. Yes, Anya is unpredictable and sometimes does not think before she acts. These Games do mean a lot to her. And Huan has her all but wrapped up in bubblewrap. But I know, deep down, that she will not forgive me for a long, long time, perhaps never, if I keep this from her. I am betraying my duty as an otorno. I am being dishonest. I cannot do that, not to Aranya.'

Kyelaeron slumped back down onto the chair, feeling a little defeated.

The níssi looked on him with stern expressions, though if one looked close enough they could see hints of respect, admiration, acceptance.

'You are a greater otorno to my granddaughter than I could ever have hoped for.' Anaire spoke, steadily. Kyelaeron's eyes rose to meet hers. 'And I understand where you are coming from. You are loyal, and honourable, and true, and you hold those virtues close... just like your father.'

Kyelaeron sat a little straighter.

Anairë continued. 'I held a great deal of respect for Ehtelë. And I never knew why, in the later years he had a lost look in his eyes that never seemed to leave.'

Kyelaeron's stomach tightened. _Because... because Ammë was not with him... Ammë left and did not even tell him of me..._

'Rumours are not always the most reliable source, but from what I heard, your Ammë broke every virtue Ehtelë held dear. She was not loyal- she fled to the woods, she was not honourable- she did not honour her marriage, she was not true- he knew nothing of you.'

'That's not fair! Ammë left because she had no choice! There was a reason! How dare you speak of her in such a way!' Kyelaeron was about to stand again, but Anairë made him freeze in place with a sharp gesture of her hand.

'I am not finished. Yes, your Ammë broke all those virtues, because she _had to._ She needed to protect you, someone very dear to her. Sometimes, Kyelaeron, one must break the morals they hold dear, for the greater good.'

Kyelaeron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew little to nothing about why his Ammë fled to the woods. For his _protection?_

Why had he needed protecting?

Anairë continued. 'And yet, your Atar never stopped loving her, despite the hurt she caused, despite the fact she was untrue. I could see it in his eyes. Now, how can you think for one minute that Aranya will never forgive you for keeping her parentage a secret for a few weeks! Like what Elenā did, it is for the greater good, to protect someone dear to you, even if that means dishonesty for a time. She will understand, I promise you.'

Kyelaeron was taken aback by the way Anairë compared his parents story to his own predicament, making his problem seem miniature, assuring him that if his Atar could still love his Ammë, Aranya would forgive him.

Perhaps it was the greater good to hide the truth for just a few more weeks... They both needed to concentrate on the Games. Perhaps it was better Anya heard the truth from her two grandmothers? And he could be there to console her after... when they had _time._ The sort of time one does not have when participating in a once-in-a-lifetime tournament.

Kyelaeron looked from Nerdanel to Anairë. 'You are right.' He admitted. 'It would be a mistake to tell her now. In fact, on hindsight I do not think one could choose a worse time to tell a nís they are a long lost royal. Thank you both, for having me, and for consoling my fears and worries and... I apologise for getting a little overexcited at times...'

Anairë and Nerdanel both stood, to politely bid farewell 'No, thank _you...'_ Nerdanel began'...For understanding. For being there for our granddaughter all the years we were not. For having her best interests at heart.'

'It is an honour to be her otorno... it always has been.' Kyelaeron replied.

With that, Kyelaeron bowed and walked elegantly out of the room.

Not a second after Kyelaeron had left, a loud _THUMP_ echoed above Nerdanel and Anairë. Looking up, they spotted two tell-tale heads of blonde and silver, failing to hide on the hidden balcony.

Anairë rolled her eyes 'Must the two of you spy on _every_ meeting I participate in?'

Eärwen ignored her as she exclaimed 'Isn't he just a dream?! He passes the test, one hundred and ten percent!'

'I am impressed' was all Findis answered.

'He is every bit his father's son...' Anairë stated. 'And he was not afraid to stand up for Aranya, or himself. He was clearly out of his comfort zone in the Palace, yet he came here anyway... for Aranya.'

Nerdanel smirked. 'With Huan _and_ Kyelaeron looking out for her, Siofra will be untouchable.'

**sSSsSSsSsssSSSsSS**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ehtelë- Ecthelion
> 
> Indyo- grandchild
> 
> sSsSSSssssSSSSssSsSs
> 
> *FINALLY puts on a pointy helmet, pulls out a flute and screams 'ECTHELION!'*
> 
> I have been holding in my love for Echthelion for months so, yep you're all gonna listen to me rant about him now.
> 
> I LOVE Ecthelion like omg I can't even. Like just walking into battle playing the flute, Gondolin falling around him. Apparently he is one of the first characters Tolkien created for the Silm/Lotr universe, dating back to 1916...
> 
> I know Glorfindel deserves his fame and glory and all. And YES, he saved the survivors and he is also amazing but PLEASE! ECTHELION NEEDS MORE CREDIT THAN HE HAS GOT, LIKE 3 BALROGS! AND HE KILLED ONE WITH HIS HEAD!
> 
> ALSO WHY IS THERE NOT MORE FANFICS ABOUT ECTHELION? GET WRITING PEOPLE I WILL READ ANYTHING!
> 
> Sooo... back to the plot (still not finished with Ecthelion...noo way) Yes, I made it painfully obvious Ecthelion was Kyelaeron's father. And well done to the people who guessed right. Anyway, I felt like this chapter was a good time to reveal it, because I think if I kept up the charade any longer it would just become ridiculous. I think people would start to think there was gonna be a twist or something if I kept it up all the way to Gondolin, like 'surprise guys.. its actually Rog!' But... nope... it's Ecthelion.
> 
> I for one am happy I can now use the name 'Ehtelë' instead of being all like 'He, his Atar, hanno, my father' constantly.
> 
> Soo... the rest of the chapter... Kyelaeron in the palace... I love like he was just like 'Fuck this I am not doing the whole proper introduction thing, like they already know who who I am!'
> 
> So what do you think? Is it a good idea for the royals and Kyelaeron to keep Aranya in the dark a little longer? Or should they all have just bit the bullet? How will Anya react if she knows Kyelaeron hid the truth from her? Will Huan be in trouble?
> 
> Huan *in a Karen from 'Mean Girls' voice* 'cough cough I'm sick!' Like doggie just no!
> 
> *Ecthelion headbutts an opponent and falls into deep water*... foreshadowing much?
> 
> Anairë... like wow what a Queen! Also Findis there to the eavesdroppers like 'you idiots, go upstairs!'
> 
> Siofra had a bad day today. I'm literally like Írissë here... poor baby! And that reaction was only after half of the shocking truth...
> 
> I think my favourite part of the chapter was the 'Tyelko's pants' part. BAM! THAT ASS!
> 
> I always loved the Nolofinwions but they're growing on me even more now...
> 
> House of the Fountain: Respectable, when visiting relatives they drink tea..
> 
> House of Finwë: *Downing mirúvorë like it's water.*
> 
> And finally, Míriel. You may be wondering what was the point of throwing her into the story. Well, firstly I think that, since a good deal of the plot in recent chapters has been in the Tapestries, and there will be more to come, it is necessary to have Míriel there at some point. Also, since Fëanor is in the void, I needed someone to explain why Finwë is gonna be in the Halls like, forever. And I gave Míriel's tale my own little 'spin' or interpretation, while sticking as much as I could to the work.
> 
> More importantly however, she is there to tell Pityo that he needs to heal and that Ambarussa are probably too dependant on each other. I think anyone who knew Ambarussa in life were just like 'yeah they're really close, it's natural, they are twins' and no one saw the dangers of the two becoming too attached. Míriel, from her vantage point can see what others could not. Telvo is so hurt now because he had not learned how to live independently before Pityo died. I think it is interesting to think about, if you did have such a close and telepathic bond with someone... like so close you can literally feel their pain... just how much it would hurt if suddenly they are not there anymore. Like it immediately doubles your hurt and pain and everything else you had to cope with before, because you had gotten used to your problems being halved.
> 
> Also I enjoyed linking certain traits to Míriel.
> 
> Now after an all-nighter writing this I am going to do a Míriel and just sleep forever...
> 
> Thank you all for your support. Next chapter we will see more action with the SECOND TRIAL!
> 
> Please comment/review/like/kudos!
> 
> SiofraMarina x


	15. The Þecond Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Little throwback to simpler times to begin, before we return to First Age Tirion, for THE SECOND TRIAL!!!

_Oromë's Woods, Y.T..._

Írissë briefly raised her head from her arrow making and rolled her eyes at the scene in front of her.

Tyelkormo was pacing, or rather, wandering around the clearing in panic, with their baby girl on his hip.

The last time Írissë had visited the Woods, she was alone. Tyelkormo had remained in Tirion, wishing to be present for a rare visit from Mahtan.

Of course,  _ that  _ time, the first time Tyelkormo did not accompany Írissë to visit Aranya, what did Baby decide to do but  _ talk. _

Írissë, as proud as any new parent would be, spent the visit showing her little Aranya around the woods, pointing to birds and trees and anything inbetween, speaking the word used to represent each object in question, delighted at the amount of words clever baby had learned so quickly, she had a flare to language, with near perfect pronunciation.

Well, Írissë  _ thought _ Anya was speaking perfect.

A certain someone was  _ not  _ so happy with a certain aspect of Aranya's newly expanded vocabulary... her  _ accent _ to be precise.

'Look, Siofra it is a þwallow, see the birdy, a  _ ÞWALLOW.'  _ Tyelkormo pointed to the sky and looked at his child encouragingly.

Aranya cooed and looked from the sky to her Atar, sky to Atar.

'SWALLOW!'

'NO! No baby, a þþþ... _ þwallow!’ _

Aranya laughed.

According to Tyelko, Írissë had taught Aranya how to talk _wrong._ That statement led to an argument, which led to the two of them blindly insulting each other's accents, before Írissë decided to rise above the pettiness and told Tyelko, if he really wished for their daughter to speak with the Fëanorion lilt, then so be it, he could teach her for all she cared.

The funny thing was, Aranya seemed to find  Tyelko's accent as strange as Írissë had. No matter how many times  Tyelkormo exaggerated the 'þ', Aranya would not allow it to sink in.

_ That's my girl...  _ Írissë could not help but smirk to herself.

Tyelkormo was not giving in that easy however, not even after at least two hours trying to get the 'þ' sound to leave his daughter's mouth.

'Look, baby  up,  _ up _ in the tree.' He pointed to the high branches. 'A  _ ÞQUIRREL!' _

‘SQUIRREL'

_ ‘ÞQUIRREL! _ ‘

‘SQUIRREL!’ 

**_ ‘ÞQUIRREL!’ _ **

Tyelko, even I can't pronounce 'squirrel' that way... Is that even gramatically correct? I thought if a 'q' comes after the s you don't do the 'th'...' Írissë drifted off from her sentence as she remembered Tyelko had no idea of the written rules of grammar and did not like to be reminded that, sometimes, he picked up words wrong by ear.

Nevertheless, Írissë felt the need to stop this war of words between father and daughter before it ended in a screaming infant and a hasty riser running off, leaving her to deal with his mess.

Tyelko shot her proud look. 'You can't say any word in my tongue! Hence why I called her Siofra, not Þiofra.'

'Please tell me that was not the only reason you omitted the 'Þ' when naming her!' Írissë could not imagine having to make that pretentious 'th' every time she mentioned her daughter's father name. Not to mention the fact that 'Þiofra' did not have a nice ring to it. 'And what do you mean I can't pronounce anything the way you do? You act as if you are speaking another language.'

Tyelko smirked. A challenge was in order. 'Fine. Say three words with my accent.'

'Thwallow, thwan, Thiofra.'

'Wrong Melda, it is pronounced  _ þwallow, þwan, Þiofra.  _ You are exaggerating the syllab-...'

'SWALLOW, SWAN, SIOFRA!' Their child reminded them of her presence in the most hilarious/frustrating manner possible, depending on whose reaction you went by.

Írissë tried to conceal her laughs and suppress her giggles, for Tyelko's sake. She knew this meant a great deal to him, though why she was unsure. She failed miserably however, and shook with mirth. Aranya picked up on this and began copying her Ammë, giggling, while still in her Atar's arms, who sighed and 'hmmpphed' dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

'Meldo, give it a rest for today. These things take time.' Írissë gently prodded Tyelko.

Tyelko sighed and whinged like a child 'Why did you teach her without me?!' Írissë gave him a pointed look and forced herself to not lose her cool.

'Tyelko, she is surrounded by hunters who do not speak with your accent, the blame can't be placed on me alone!'

Tyelko sighed, shoulders slumping. 'I know, I am sorry Melda. It just...it means a lot to me that she knows how to speak with the lilt.'

'Why Melda? I have never seen you so defensive of your accent before! Valar I remember the days you used to talk as I do, just to rise your Atar!'

Tyelkormo smirked as that memory drifted into his mind. 'Yet, you will also recall the days my brothers and I would laugh every time you and the other royals uttered so much as a word. Because to us you all sounded so strange!'

'I do.' Írissë shook her head. 'And to us, you all sounded weird. And you were all mad.'

'And yet you still came running to our door, begging for training, Melda.'

'Desperate times!' Írissë exclaimed. Tyelko gave her a playful smack.

The two laughed. Aranya demanded she was put 'DOWN! ATTA!' and happily crawled around the place, cooing and giggling at anything which caught her attention.

After a moments peace, Írissë persisted with her investigation.

'But, honestly, Tyelko, what is all this about?

Tyelko appeared conflicted. He was never good at hiding his emotions. 'Nothing Melda.'

Írissë placed her hands on her hips. 'Liar.'

'Hmmph'

'Talk to me Meldo.'

'Fine.' Tyelko rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, feigning annoyance. 'But it sounds stupid.'

'I know you better than to believe you would get so worked up over something stupid. I will neither laugh nor judge.' Írissë promised.

' Its just that... well... we are not always around for her.'  Tyelkormo suddenly burst, emotions spilling in rapid words. 'And we cannot tell her who she really is. And I know we cannot reveal her as ours, do not get me wrong. But... as she gets  older we are going to have to conceal our identities more and more and... and I  _ want _ her to know she is my daughter! Írissë, I want her to be proud of her heritage and unashamed. I want her to not have to completely hide who she is... Ai, I don't know! Maybe if she spoke with the lilt it would ease my guilt for lying to her...'

'Tyelko!' Írissë placed her hands on his shoulders. 'DO NOT feel guilty because we are keeping her  _ safe. _ Look at her, do you think she cares that 'ATTA' and 'AMMA' are not telling her they are a Prince and Princess, that they are cousins? Meldo she is more interested in the twigs on the ground! Perhaps in years to come it will be more of a challenge to keep her in the dark, but now, Meldo, she simply does not care! She just wants to be held and loved and fed and played with!  _ Enjoy _ it, while it lasts. Do not waste this precious time feeling guilt.'

Tyelko looked to the side, at the gleeful elfling, who had her head stuck in a bed of wild primroses, before facing Írissë, eyes determined. 'You are right, Melda. As always.'

Írissë was not finished however. 'And what do you mean you want her to know she is your daughter?! LOOK AT HER TYELKO! She could be no  one's child but yours! Not only are you identical, but not one minute is she left on the ground before she is covered in dirt from head to toe! She is in hunting leathers before she can walk! And look at the wonder she holds in her eyes for each little insect and bird and leaf! She does not need the accent to be like you, she couldn't be more like you if she tried!'

'Perhaps.' Tyelko tried to sound modest, but the beam on his face betrayed the pride emanating from him. 'But then again, she refused stubbornly to do a thing I asked, laughed at my accent, demanded to be carried and then put down, AND agreed to every word you said, perfectly mimicking your manner of speaking. Sure, she looks like me, but do not be fooled into thinking there is none of you there either Melda!'

It was  Írissë's turn to beam proudly. 'That's my headstrong, independent Aranya alright! But Melda, please let me have this! Let her talk as she wishes for now! Do not waste this precious time forcing her to do the lilt. The only person she will know with the lilt is you. It is only natural she will be a little slower picking it up. She will learn your accent herself, with time, trust me  Meldo . Do not force her, that will only make her confused! She is only a  _ baby!' _

Tyelkormo raked a hand through his hair and sighed, again. 'Ai, you are right. I should be enjoying this, not worrying about things that will come themselves in time. I am sorry for overreacting, Melda, and I did not mean what I said... I love the way you speak, really, I do!' He leaned in and kissed her softly.

'Flattery will get you _nowhere_.' Írissë broke the kiss a few seconds later. 'But apology accepted. And I am definitely using that against you in the future. Next time you make fun of my brothers or our cousins they will _know_ that you, Turcafinwë _love_ the way they spe-...'

Tyelkormo cut  Írissë's threat short with another, deeper kiss. The two  _ almost  _ forgot about the child depending on them.

'ATTA! AMMA!' Came a shout, which woke the passionate couple from their bliss.

'Yes baby?' Tyelkormo smiled, significantly more relaxed than the last time.

'What is it Aranya?' Írissë cooed in a high pitched, doting voice she would never admit she was capable of to anyone save Tyelko.

Their baby pointed her hand to the sky, where a bird glided in the air.  _ ' _ _ þWIFT _ _!' _ she exclaimed.

Tyelko and Írissë were stunned.

'I didn't tell her that word!' They both said simultaneously.

'Swift?' Írissë asked. 'I don't recall ever seeing one here!'

'You are right, they are rarely found in these woods! I have no idea how she knew! Tyelkormo was fascinated at his daughters unexplained knowledge of the birds.

His chest swelled with pride.

She finally had gotten the hang of 'þ'.

'What did I tell you?' Írissë shook her head at his painfully proud expression. 'She will figure it out herself, all in good time.'

'Right, as always Melda.'

As it turned out, Siofra Aranya did not pick up many more words with the  Fëanorion lilt. Perhaps she would have, had her Atar been there for her whole childhood. But he was not, and Siofra grew up among the Hunters. If  anything, one could say her accent was  Avarin , with an amusing hint of upper-class Tirion the times certain traits of her mother shined through.

However, Aranya never saw a swift fly in the woods again, for her whole childhood. Oromë told her about them, she saw pictures of them, but she never found herself in a predicament where she had to say the word 'þwift' to one of her fellow peers, who would probably have corrected her lilt to something less Fëanorion...

The next time Siofra Aranya found the need to shout out ' _ þWIFT',  _ where was she but in the middle of the Second Trial.

Or as Tyelkormo would have said... the  _ Þecond _ Trial...

sSSSssSsssSsSssSs

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

Dawn broke across the city. Rose Gold beams glistened across the intricately carved furniture of the Noldoran's bedchamber, casting shadows.

Eärwen slept with her back to her husband, her glazed eyes greeting the pastel sky.

She awoke to soft kisses on her neck and back. Smiling softly to herself, she turned to face Ara, burying her face into his bare chest, loving the feeling of peace and comfort and love- sweet, passionate, tender love- she found there.

Arafinwë laughed quietly. Eärwen lifted her head and looked into his ever-youthful eyes, questioning his reason for doing so.

'You can act as innocent and oblivious as you want, Melda.' Ara smirked. 'But do you really think, after all these years of marriage, that you can keep something from me? You are up to mischief Eärwen, I know it!'

'What?!' Eärwen laughed, as though what he implied was absurd, knowing all too well how to play along. 'You must be imagining things,  Meldo . You poor thing, you've been working too hard lately, relax Ara.'

She pulled the strap of her nightdress over her shoulder, leaving nothing to the imagination, in an effort to distract him.

Ara laughed again, and stared a few seconds too long, before pulling her strap back up. 'Do not play temptress with me, I want an answer Melda!'

'Fine.' Eärwen sighed, feigning impatience. Before Ara could comprehend what was happening, she was on top of him, knees either side of his torso. 'I may have ordered more decorations for the Ball than I told you, but I just wanted it to be extra special! I am sorry, Meldo... I will make it up to you...'

She proceeded to kiss him deeply, a kiss Ara could not refuse...

... _ for  _ a brief few seconds, during which, Ara flipped them around, so Eärwen was on her back and he was leaning over her.

He looked deep into her eyes, before whispering into her neck, planting a few kisses in the process...' _ Liar _ . You know I am not talking about the decorations.'

Eärwen closed her eyes and shivered, expecting more, wanting more...

... but nothing more came.

Opening her eyes, she turned and disappointingly found Ara  _ off  _ her, lying on his side, smirking.

_ Oh you are good! Using my own trick against me!  _ she thought to herself.

'Who is the temptress now?' She crossed her arms and 'hmmpphed'. Ara only laughed again, which made Eärwen even more annoyed. 'Tease!' she exclaimed, turning her back to him and lying on her side.

She could not help but smirk as she felt Ara's head leaning over her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist, their legs entangling. 'Just answer one little question and I am all yours, my  _ Queen. _ ' he whispered in her ear, knowing it would cause more shivers, Eärwen cursing her body for being so vulnerable to Ara's touch.

'And what question would that be?' Eärwen was not giving anything away if she could help it.

'Which one of my brother's children had a secret daughter and hid her  Oromë's Woods, unknown to the rest of her family, until now? Melda, I may not be the brightest child of  Finwë , but I know a  grandniece when I see one! Only one of  Finwë's House would be brave and/or stupid enough to  _ wink _ at Anairë's glare!'

Eärwen laughed. Ara had a point. 'I do not think that is enough evidence, Meldo. But if you mean Siofra Aranya, I think the majority of rumours have all but confirmed her as the daughter of Tyelkormo.'

Arafinwë, yet again, looked deep into his wife's eyes, Eärwen felt he was almost piercing into her soul.

After a long pause, he spoke, eyes still staring. 'Nice try, Melda.'

Eärwen was slightly annoyed and a little on edge at how hard it was to trick Ara. 'Ugh! Now I know where Nerwen got her staring, interrogating  _ thing  _ from.' She sighed dramatically, flopping onto her back again.

More laughter on Ara's part. 'Artanis always knew more than she let on. Now who does she resemble? That's right, Melda,  _ you!  _ Out with it! Who is Siofra Aranya the child of?'

'What makes you so certain it is not Tyelkormo?' Eärwen had to ask.

Ara smiled knowingly, head resting on his hand, elbow propped up on the pillow. 'You misunderstood the question. I asked which one of my brother's children. I meant not  _ brothers' _ plural, but  _ brother's _ singular. I meant, which child of  _ Nolo _ does she belong to?'

Eärwen propped herself up on her elbows in shock, knowing she was giving herself away, but also knowing Ara would not stop until he had the whole truth from her. 'How... how do you know she is one of Nolofinwë's children's?'

Ara, keeping calm and a little smug, answered 'Anairë would never get so defensive and worked up over any of Fëanáro's sons.'

'Anairë has changed. Her and Nerdanel are good friends now. Perhaps she was merely doing her law-sister a favour?' Eärwen insisted.

'No Melda. The passion in her speech at the council meeting, the rage at the Lords who disrespected the huntress, the protective stance and aura... one cannot fake that... that was a mother's defence. She succeeded in killing the rumours, true. However she also gave herself away...  _ to me. _ '

Eärwen was at a loss for words.

Ara continued. 'That is how I know Siofra Aranya not one of ours. That is how I know she is not one of Fëanáro and Nerdanel's. Nay, Melda, she is the daughter of a child of Anairë and Nolofinwë. My question is...  _ which one?' _

Eärwen lay still, deep in thought, conflicted. She did want to tell  Ara, she even felt a little guilty for hiding the truth from him. But, on the other hand,  Nerdanel and Anairë  _ trusted  _ her. She did not necessarily need to know their secret, and yet they had held enough confidence in her to keep her mouth shut...

...Then there was Ara's  _ awful  _ reputation of spilling secrets to consider...

'It is not my secret to tell, Meldo.' Eärwen muttered apologetically.

'I promise I won't tell a soul. Or make it obvious I know.' Ara walked his fingers playfully up her shoulder, fidding with her hair, braiding it into his. Acting like the big child Eärwen knew he was at heart.

She rolled her eyes. 'You have promised to keep things secret  _ many _ times, Meldo, and failed miserably.

Arafinwë rose his eyebrows in defence. 'I have NOT!'

Eärwen shook her head. 'You told my  _ brothers _ about that lagoon-...'

'And I have never regretted anything more in my life, they put the fear of Eru into me.'

'You told everyone I was pregnant  _ before  _ our wedding had taken place, even my  _ parents!' _

'Findaráto was our firstborn! It was too special news to hide! And as if either of my brothers were any better! Findékáno arrived only three months after Nolo's wedding!'

'He was premature!'

'So was Nelyafinwë apparently. Do you remember how big he was for a newborn? Premature my arse!'

'Whatever. Let's see... another secret you spilled...'You told your Atar about Nerwen and Fëanáro's  _ incident _ .'

'Why should I have kept that secret?! You have to admit that was a little strange, him wanting our daughter's hair!'

'Yes, but Nerwen did not want anyone to find out! She found it rather embarassing!'

'I was just standing up for my daughter!'

'You let slip all of Angaráto's previous lovers to Eldalótë...'

'...Well I didn't know he had not told her! '

'...It was the morning if their  _ wedding!' _

'Honesty is essential in marriage,  _ Melda!' _

'You told Amárië that Ingoldo was going to propose  _ before _ he popped the question.'

'I was excited! Okay I see what you are saying Melda, but I promise, this time the secret is safe. Times have changed... I know it could be dangerous for her to be revealed.'

Eärwen snuggled into his chest, Ara wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her forehead. 'I believe you...' she replied '...but as I said, it is not my secret to tell.'

It was adorable how exaggerated his pout and puppy eyes were.

Even more adorable was how easily Eärwen fell for them...  _ Every damn time! Ai! _

'How about I talk to Nerdanel and Anairë and arrange a meeting? Hmmm? I will do my best for you, Meldo.' She promised, as her hand moved from his chest, lower and lower...

Arafinwë gasped, and jumped. Eärwen thought it was her doing,  _ until... _

' _ Nerdanel _ and Anairë?' He questioned. Eärwen winced, realising her mistake too late. Ara's eyes went wide. 'NO!...You are not serious?'

'Ai! Ignore what I said! I was not meant to say that!'

'Tyelkormo AND Írissë! That's it, isn't it? That explains  _ everything!  _ Ai Melda, no wonder you didn't tell me! No one can know this! It would destroy that young nís! Take her out of the Games! It is too dangerous! She can stay in the palace, safe, until they are over. We have to do something!' Arafinwë was out of the bed in an instant, pacing up and down.

Eärwen kneeled on the bedside and caught his shoulders. ' Meldo . Look at me! We are doing something, that is, doing  _ nothing _ . We have to be careful. We cannot be rash about this! If we acknowledge this  nís in any way we will make it clear she is indeed one of us. Anairë has dealt with the  rumours . They have already all but died. The girl knows nothing of her true identity. Her  otorno knows to keep her safe. The Games will be over in a few weeks. We will let the fuss die down, and then Anairë and  Nerdanel will reveal the truth to her, and she may do as she wishes.'

Arafinwë was silent, and looked as if he wanted to argue with Eärwen's logic. However, Eärwen could see him flit through the plan in his mind, realising this was the best way. He was called wise for a reason, after all.

'You are right' he sighed, after a moment. He sat down on the bed and cradled his face in his hands. 'Ai Valar, I cannot believe this. Nolo and Fëanáro share a grandchild. If they were here now...'

Eärwen knew that tone all too well. Despite all they put him through, Ara missed his brothers. Still kneeling, she hugged him from behind. 'They would be playing tug of war with her. Or perhaps she would bring them together...'

Ara lifted his head, and smiled sadly. 'I guess we'll never know...'

Eärwen pulled him around and into her chest. The two of them remained like so for what felt like forever. In  each other's arms, where everything was alright, where this new reality was all a bad dream, where they were safe and hidden from the heartbreak that was First Age life, even in blissful Aman.

They were lucky. Despite all they had lost- their children, their siblings, half of their people- they still had each other. And at times like these it was all that mattered.

Eventually, Ara was healed enough to break the embrace. They stared at each other like a pair of young lovebirds for a brief moment.

Eärwen lay back on the bed and smugly pulled her nightdress  strap back down. This time Ara did not pull it back up...

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

Nerdanel and Anairë sat and ate breakfast together in the private dining room, reserved for royals only.

Nerdanel , still not fully reacquainted with the  delicacies of palace life, thought the food looked as though someone had spent months crafting it, so delicious and perfectly presented it was.

She could not eat  _ any  _ of it.

'Nerdanel, you haven't touched your plate!' Anairë fussed. 'We have a long day ahead of us! Eat up!'

'I am too nervous!' She replied. 'I think I will just stick to the coffee.'

She made to pour herself a third cup. Anairë put her hand over the coffee pot. 'You have had quite enough of that, for one whose heart is already racing with nerves!'

Nerdanel gave her a look. 'Oh please! Three cups of coffee  is nothing! How do you think I managed to craft and raise seven children at the same time?! Fëanáro and I used to drink so much of the stuff that even when we had a few precious hours to sleep we couldn't!'

'That explains how you ended up with  _ seven _ .' Anairë smirked.

Nerdanel shook her head wryly. 'I am scared for her today.' Her expression darkened.

Anairë reassured her. 'She is very skilled. I have no doubt she will progress to the next Trial.'

Nerdanel threw her a look. 'You know that is not what troubles me.'

'Everything is under control.' Anairë insisted. 'In this short time since my speech, already the rumours are almost gone. There is nothing Aranya has that she has not already shown the crowd, there is nothing new to shock them, and encourage more rumours. All our tracks are covered.'

'Ai, I suppose.' Nerdanel knew the logic behind Anairë's words, but had a feeling in her gut something was going to go wrong...

Anairë read her worry like a book. 'Look,  Nerdanel , there is nothing evidential to link Siofra to our children, other her uncanny  resemblance to  Tyelkormo . The people already know she resembles him, and therefore seeing her today will give away nothing they don't already know. Her expert skills,  Noldorin heritage, Huan, and gift with animals can be linked to the fact she is a huntress, it does not necessarily mean she is related to us! I can see no other traits in her that would give her away. Can you?'

Nerdanel thought for a moment, before muttering 'The tattoo... Ai I forgot to tell you, Tanwë got in touch with me...she figured it out... She swears she will not tell a soul and she is going to ensure the tattoo stays covered for the Games.'

'She and Írissë were rather close, and I think she proved herself trustworthy when she worked for us here, not a single gold piece was unaccounted for.' Anarë replied. 'And Tanwë is a very bright nís. She would notice traits linking Aranya to Írissë that no one else would... But what is this about a tattoo?' Anairë failed miserably to conceal a look of disgust which came to her face.

'I am sorry I forgot to mention it, but Siofra has the star tattooed behind her ear... Apparently Tyelko did it when she was a small child. From what I gather Írissë nearly killed him for it!'

Anairë shook her head and giggled. 'At last, Írissë understood the pain she put me through when  _ she  _ inked those dreadful things onto her own lovely skin! Ugh they were  _ awful!' _

Nerdanel laughed 'Tyelko's tattoos were too much, I think he did it out of spite more than anything else. But I remember admiring Írissë's, when she would be training with the boys. She was very tasteful in her choice. Not too subtle, but not too showy either. Very artistic-...'

'Very  _ unladylike _ .' Anairë scowled.

Nerdanel raised an eyebrow. 'Like mother, like daughter.'

Anairë stiffened. 'What...what do you mean?...' she laughed nervously.

Neranel smirked. 'I remember the days when young Nolo looked up to me as an older sibling, and I remember him telling me all about this _wonderful_ nís he had met. How she was such a lady, and yet so _bold,_ and brave and headstrong. She was even a bit of a rebel; she had a _tattoo_ covering most of her back. A phoenix apparently, rising from the ashes. But she always wore reserved dresses that covered it... And _then_ Nolo was extremely embarrassed, for he had spilled a little too much, hinting that he had undressed said nís. He made me swear to never tell Fëanáro!'

Anairë shook her head. 'I told Nolo he was never to tell a soul about that! He could be such an impulsive idiot sometimes! Findékáno and Arakáno took after him.'

'Hmmm and a rebel nís, unhappy with the world she came from, breaking the social boundaries of her class, breaking the rules, not letting anyone come in the way of her dream, falling for an 'impulsive idiot'... I wonder where Írissë got it from?' Nerdanel smirked.

'The two of us keep this secret until Dagor Dagorath, you hear me!?' Anairë spoke harshly, but Nerdanel could see the upwards twitch to her lips.

'Well at least Nolo was not as bad as Ara for spilling secrets!' Nerdanel giggled to herself.

'Ai! He told Elenwë's parents about Itarillë before Turukáno and Elenwë had the chance! They were not impressed, that he knew before they did.'

'I can do one better, when Fëanáro and I had just began courting, and were trying to keep things low key, what did he do but run into a council meeting and announce that his eldest brother had a lover, a sculptress with red hair! He may as well have dragged me in there and then and presented me to them!'

They both laughed. Nerdanel felt a little more at ease and took a few small mouthfuls of scrambled egg. 'Speaking of Ara, it is unlike him and Eärwen to be this late!'

'I don't think we will be seeing them for a while.' In walked  Findis , looking a little shaken. 'On my way  here, I had the unfortunate experience of walking past their bedroom. I don't care how old Ara is, one should never have to hear their baby brother making noises like that!' She cringed and slumped on her chair, downing a mug of coffee in one go.  Nerdanel and Anairë laughed.

'Do you think it is time to let him in on the secret? And Indis too?' Anairë asked, feeling a little guilty.

'Perhaps, after the Trial today?' Nerdanel suggested.

' Ammë will not be around for a while, she is staying with Uncle  Ingwë and the rest of that side of the family tree, until she and her brother have another major row and remember why they live leagues upon leagues away from each other!' Findis laughed. 'And Ara already knows.'

The two ladies looked at her, wondering why in Arda she had left that detail about Ara last, begging for an explanation.

'He may not know  _ all _ the details'  Findis explained. 'But he knows we are all up to something. I could see it in his eyes during the council meeting, when we were spying on you, Anairë. He knows Siofra is more than a lovechild of  Tyelkormo . By killing the  rumours , you gave yourself away to him. He knows there would be no need to be so defensive over  rumours about a  long-lost royal,  _ unless  _ there was more to it than what meets the eye.'

'My Eru!' Anairë exclaimed. 'You got all of that from looking in his eyes?!'

'He also dropped some not-so-subtle hints and asked me some revealing questions yesterday.' Findis admitted.

'Well Findis, we were wondering is there any traits we have overlooked about Siofra, anything that might give her away?' Nerdanel questioned her law-sister.

'From what I see, we have it all covered...' Findis answered. She paused for a moment, in thought. '... _ unless _ ...'

'Yes?'

'What?'

'Nerdanel, is there any chance she speaks with the Fëanorion accent?'

'Ai! I never thought of that!' Anairë exclaimed, suddenly a little  panicked . 'I must admit  Nerdanel , you have all but lost your lilt!'

'I only picked it up because it was easier than listening to Fëanáro go off on a tangent about accurate pronunciation every damn time I made an 's' sound instead of a 'þ'. And I was surrounded by it constantly for  _ years.'  _ Nerdanel insisted. 'The way I am speaking now is my  _ real _ accent.'

'But does Siofra speak with the lilt?' Findis asked.

Nerdanel strained her memory, recalling every single word her granddaughter had uttered to her.

'No.' she finally answered. 'When she read the family tree she even called Míriel _Serindë_ and not _Þerindë_ _._ Fëanáro would probably have had my head for not correcting her.'

All three breathed a collective sigh of relief.

'Well I guess we have nothing to fear then!' Findis smiled.

sSSsSsssSssSSsSSsss

Kyelaeron dressed himself and double checked he had all his weapons, before leaving his tent.

He walked over to Aranya's. Huan sat at the door and growled at him as he tried to enter.

Kyelaeron rolled his eyes at the hound, who snapped at his attitude. 'Aranya?' He called in. 'Are you ready to go!?'

'Two minutes! I am almost dressed!' His osellë answered. 'Huan, stop growling! You and Kyelaeron are good friends now!'

Hound and otorno shot each other disgusted looks at the mad idea either of them could be so much as considered anything but worst enemies.

Huan did indeed stop growling, but the threat in his eyes had Kyelaeron  _ very _ on edge.

'Hurry Anya!' he yelled nervously. 'I need you to braid my hair!'

A string of curses flew out of the tent, something about him needing to grow up and excuses and laziness. Kyelaeron smirked.

Huan continued to glare at  Kyelaeron .  Kyelaeron ,  realising it was not often the two of them were alone, decided it was time he  tried to get Huan to be a little less harsh with him...

'Hey, Huan?' He whispered. Huan sat a little straighter and looked at him suspiciously. 'I know we got off on the wrong foot... but... I went to the palace... and I talked to the grandmothers... And, I promise I will keep the secret, I will not tell Anya until it is safe to do so, I promise Boy!'

Huan sniffed loudly and shook his head, before cocking it to one side and staring at Kyelaeron for what felt like an eternity. Kyelaeron stared back, reiterating his promise, he would not tell Aranya, for now.

'I know she means a great deal to you!'  Kyelaeron suddenly felt the need to add. 'But she is my  osellë , I love her so, so much and I would happily go to  Mandos for her! Please Huan! Believe me! Can we not be...'  Kyelaeron winced- the humiliation was still  too near to call this dog a  _ friend _ \- '...allies?'

'WOOF!'

Kyelaeron let an 'Oof' out of him as he felt himself, yet again, pounced on by the hound. This time, however, Huan did not growl, instead he licked his face.

Kyelaeron tried not to wince and insult the dog... but he did not like dog slobber all over his face as much as Aranya seemed to. After a few seconds he had to end Huan's affectionate 'kisses'. 'Alright, alright, boy, I get the message.' He scratched the Hound's ears.

'Well isn't this a miracle?! My two boys are getting along like a house on fire!' Kyelaeron looked up to find Aranya towering over him, smirking, knowing he was not at all enjoying his current predicament.

Huan forgot all about  Kyelaeron in split seconds, sitting for his Master, wagging his tail and panting at her, awaiting any command she may give. Aranya scratched his ears and he let out another happy 'WOOF!'. 'At ease soldier!' she giggled. Huan happily jumped up onto Aranya, who kissed his nose and gave him a cuddle.

Kyelaeron stood up, by himself. Aranya laughed at the disgusted expression on his face. 'Huan, not everyone loves you licking them. Next time, just wag your tail and let Kyelaeron give you a belly rub!'

Kyelaeron gave his osellë a 'not impressed' look.  _ No way _ was he going to be giving that little shit anything more than a pat on the head. Huan stared smugly at him.

'Anyway otorno, I want your opinion!' Aranya began. 'Which headband today? Blue or green?'

She held up the craftwork of Tanwë. Both headbands were beautifully made.  _ The green would match Aranya's eyes...  _ Kyelaeron observed...  _ but... _

'Blue is definately your colour, osellë' Kyelaeron insisted, laughing to himself at his own clever joke.

'What's so funny?' Aranya asked, puzzled, as she pulled the blue headband over her hair, which today she had tied in  an intricate, but messy braid.

Kyelaeron chuckled. 'Nothing osellë, I was simply thinking, karma is a funny thing, isn't it? What comes around goes around!'

'Typical fancy pants Lords getting all philosophical, huh Huan!' Aranya shook her head, not realising the irony of her words. 'You are so weird otorno! Now come here, as a lowly common nís, it is my job to braid your hair, because you are too busy going to lah dee dah parties and such to learn how to do it yourself!'

'Heavy is the head that wears the crown osellë! I do not have the time to learn, I am too busy saving reckless princesses! ' Kyelaeron exclaimed.

'No matter how high of a Lord you are, my head will  _ always  _ be heavier, with all you put me through!' Aranya ' hmmphed ' as she untangled her  otorno's hair and got to work on his braids.

'Yes osellë, your head is heavier than a humble Lord's, without a doubt!'

'You talk alot of shite.'

Huan had no idea how to react to the banter that was both revealing and innocent at the same time.

sSSsSssSsSsSsSs

Tulkas' warriors made their way to the arena for the Second Trial. They marched through the city, keeping strict formation.

Lindë looked straight ahead, with unseeing eyes, focused, ready. She took deep breaths and fought off nerves.  _ I can do this... I will get to the next round... _

A voice sounded to her left.  _ ' _ _ Psst _ _! _ Lindë! Can I ask you something?'

It took every single piece of willpower within her to not roll her eyes. She knew exactly which question would be thrown her way. All week, fellow warriors had been approaching her, with varying degrees of politeness and nosiness, wanting to find out more about Siofra, as if Lindë had known the huntress her whole life.

Sliding her eyes to the side, stealing a glance at the  ner who questioned her, she calmly replied 'What do you wish to know?' while in reality, furiously thinking  _ Have you not got bigger fish to fry at the moment? I certainly do! I need to hype myself up for this challenge!  _

The ner did not reply, as if expecting her to add something to her sentence, waiting for her to finish as though... as though he had a  _ title _ .

Lindë could not remember this Lord's name on the spot...  _ Oh well, he will just have to take a 'mi'lord' and be on his way... _

'My Lord...' Lindë added quickly, shooting an apologetic look to the ner, for forgetting his name, in reality, not giving two fucks.

'Malta' The  ner finished for her. 'Do not worry, your manners are very good compared to what I have witnessed recently... let's just say  it's alright for one to omit the name, but the  _ title,  _ now purposely omitting that, when one is not that well acquainted, well that's just pure-...'

'Do you have a question?'  Lindë interrupted. Usually she would be more polite, but she wanted to get this conversation over with and get back to her pre-trial 'meditation' of sorts. She was very nervous, and worried about what would happen should she experience another panic attack or flashback...

The Lord, Malta, to give him credit, did not see to take much offence.  _ He is probably trying to sweet talk me into spilling all the tea... honestly why are people asking me about Siofra?! I do not know her that well! _

'I want your honest opinion Lindë. And I mean  _ honest.  _ No sugarcoating, just because you are trying to be polite. Out of all the warriors, you probably know more about this than anyone else.'

Lindë shook her head. 'Malta- I mean, _my_ _Lord-...'_

'If you answer  honestly, I will let you off without ever having to say my title again. I know it can be a pain sometimes, but it is necessary.'

Lindë smirked without humour.  _ Wow, bribery and desperation... the dark side of curiosity?  _

'Malta, I really do not know much about what you ask.' Lindë tried to break it to him gently, if only to save herself yet another grudge from yet another comrade for her refusal to talk behind the back of a nís she truly respected.

'Ahh you are too humble!  Of course, you know! Look at you! And especially because you are  Telerin !' Malta laughed and clapped her on the back, breaking more than one rule of marching in the process.

Lindë's eyes flashed dangerously.  _ Because I am Telerin?... Oh that is low!... I thought I heard the worst, but THIS! _

Malta continued to smile like the sun, as if he had not made a highly insulting statement on many levels...

'Malta, I do not know  _ anything _ about the huntress Siofra Aranya, and if I did, I certainly would not tell you! How can you insult my people like that?!' Lindë snapped, and braced herself for retaliation.

She was not expecting a crinkled brow and a confused expression. 'Who?' The ner asked, confusing Lindë in turn.

'Siofra Aranya, my partner in the First Trial... You wanted to ask about her did you not?' Lindë felt embarrassment creeping upon her, but assured herself there was no need to feel sheepish. What else could Malta be on about?

'Which one was she again?' Malta voiced, reinstating Lindë’s bewilderment and mortification.

_ He must be acting  _ _ oblivious _ ...  Lindë thought...  _ I will not let my guard slip... _

Lindë began to list traits of her partner that  _ everyone  _ knew of... 'Silvery blonde hair, roughly my height and age, osellë to the ner who controlled the trees...-'

'AH Tyelkormiel!' Malta exclaimed, and looked mighty proud of himself for figuring out who Lindë spoke of, as if it were not obvious. 'I was not asking about  _ her! _ Ugh I've all but lost a thousand gold pieces because of her, not to mention the hair pulling of her smug Prince Atar...'

Lindë no longer knew where in Arda this conversation was going. So she decided to just embrace it, and let Malta ramble.

'...Anyway, no! Why would I ask about  _ her.  _ I have a far more pressing matter at hand, what with the Second Trial being mere hours away!...'

_ Well _ _ I wish all the other warriors would be a little more like you...  _ Lindë had to admit she  suddenly liked Malta much more than most of her fellow warriors, for the sole reason that he was not bombarding her with  _ the  _ question.

'...And the Teleri are just  _ so gifted  _ at it! I guess it must have something to do with all the knots they do be tying and weaving and what not, what with all the ships...'

Lindë, who still had no clue what Malta was on about, decided it was time to interrupt. 'Forgive me, Malta, but  _ what  _ exactly are you talking about? I am a little distracted with nerves.'

Malta looked at her as though she had grown ten heads. 'What do you mean what am I talking about!?  _ HAIR!  _ I am talking about hairstyles! The Teleri are  _ experts! ' _

Lindë almost snorted. She did not know of a single Teleri who would declare themselves a hairstyling expert.

'Malta, I doubt you could call us ex. _..perts.'  _ Lindë hesitated as she felt the intricate braids she had plaited into her hair, knitted together into a half up, half down bun, all while a waterfall plait encircled her head.

'See!' Malta exclaimed. 'You can't deny it!  Lindë, I want you to look at my hair and answer honestly how it looks! I rarely ever braid  it, it is too wonderful to braid! But my brother forced me to today, because, it caused a  _ little  _ delay to my First Trial. Anyway, I do not know how I feel about this...' he gestured to the wavy high ponytail on top of his head, with braids leading into it. '... I don't think it does my hair justice! It feels like part of me is missing.'

Lindë was suddenly hit with the sheer bizarre-ness of the conversation. She could not prevent the laughter which escaped her lips. She could not stop. Her worries and anxieties seemed to float away, giggles banishing them in a way her routine focus and meditating never could. She struggled to maintain her posture as the march continued.

'Ai! You're laughing at it! Is it that bad!?' Malta gestured to his golden head in panic.

'NO!' Lindë assured him. ' _ No.  _ Malta, I am sorry I was not laughing at you, I am just very,  _ very  _ nervous! Do not mind me. Your hair looks lovely.'

'Honestly?' Malta asked, raising an eyebrow. Lindë was somehow reminded of a child, worried about something irrational.

He needed to hear this, just as she had needed to laugh,  Lindë realised. It was his way of losing those pre-Trial fears...

Well that was what Lindë  _ thought _ ...

In reality Malta just wanted to make sure his hairstyle did his lush locks justice...

'I swear.' she assured him. 'The braids are neat and perfect. The ponytail really brings out your cheekbones! And I swear those golden waves shine brighter than Uinen's hair on a Summer morning.'

Now  _ that  _ last statement assured Malta has hair was  _ perfect.  _ Perhaps it assured him a little too much.

The remainder of the march Malta rambled non-stop about all things to do with his golden hair. Lindë nodded along, discreetly laughing to herself at the ner's antics.

Both reached their destination with their fears and doubts gone, erased by each other.

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

The Hunters and Warriors found themselves in the arena yet again, the spectacle of thousands of elves and royalty- not to mention the Valar.

As usual, the Valar combined their powers to construct the Trial. This time, the competitors were faced with a long, wide corridor, the familiar finishing platform to be seen at the very end of it.

There were several doors lined up on each side of the corridor. Those in the audience, with a birds-eye view, could see that each door led to a room, each room different, with a few noticeable traps and some interesting surprises...

Tanwë listed the usual rules- no foul-play, no deliberate life-threatening harm, no substance abuse, no bribing, no framing and no cheating.

She then went on to explain the Trial. 'Competitors! Welcome to the Second Trial! Today we have a test of both mental and physical capabilities. In front of you is a hallway with fifty doors. In order to make your way to the finish line- the platform, you must enter every single room and complete the challenge within. Each room will have a different theme, to give an all-round challenge of skill, but one thing each room has in common are  _ riddles...' _

The crowd gasped, intrigued. 

The competitors leaned forward, intrigued.

Siofra Aranya was  _ not _ intrigued. She was  panicked .

_Kyelaeron, I am useless at riddles!_

_ It will be fine Anya. I doubt they will be that difficult, you are skilled, you will pass the test of each room no bother!  _ Kyelaeron desperately tried to reassure his osellë.

Tanwë continued explaining the Trial.

'You will each be given a card, which you will have responsibility over. Should you lose your card, or damage it beyond repair, you will be disqualified and must exit the Trial immediately. Each room completed will earn you a stamp on your card. There is a time limit of five minutes on each room. If you fail to complete your room in this time, you will be disqualified. Only when your whole card has been stamped, can you then leave the corridor for the platform. Any competitor who stands on the platform without their completed card will be disqualified.'

'Ten Hunters and ten Warriors shall progress to the next trial. You are permitted to use any means necessary to ensure qualification, within these rules, the breaking of which will result in disqualification: Only one competitor is allowed into a room each time. You cannot re-enter a room, even if it is accidental or you will be- that's right- disqualified. The riddles will be written on the wall of each room.  Please line up to receive your cards.'

Kyelaeron felt alarm bells ringing in his head from the moment  Tanwë mentioned the riddles were to be  _ 'written _ on the wall'. He knew just  _ who _ had caused the bells to ring...

He caught eyes with Aranya, who looked a pale shade of green. As the noise of the crowd grew, she exploded. 'KYELAERON! I CAN'T READ! I CAN'T DO THIS! AI VALAR THIS IS IT! IT IS OVER! ALL BECAUSE OF MY STUPID,  _ STUPID  _ BRAINS! WHY CAN’T I BE NORMAL AND. ..AND..

She flung herself into his arms and began to cry. Kyelaeron pulled her close and glared at the eyes in the audience he knew were fixed on Aranya, hiding her from them.

'Anya, LOOK AT ME.' He shook her shoulders. 'You are  _ not _ stupid. This is  _ not _ the end! We will find a way!'

'HOW!?' Aranya sobbed, hopeless.

Kyelaeron narrowed his eyes, thinking fast. 'You know how to sound out letters?'

'It takes me ages to read a single word! I will not get through a whole riddle AND figure it out AND compete the room's challenge within five minutes! All the  royals' names were easy. They all ended in 'FINWË!' she shouted in frustration.

Kyelaeron really wished Anya had not made a scene now, not while she was talking about the royal family. A few warriors heard Aranya shout ' _ FINWË!' _ and turned their heads.  Kyelaeron glared at them too. He heard a growl from the edge of the arena, and wished Huan would pounce on the nosy bastards. The hound restrained himself however.

'Okay, Anya. Listen. Here's what  we're going to do.'  Kyelaeron took a few seconds to build on a plan that was growing in his mind. 'That's it! I know how we can do this, Aranya!'

'Really!?' Aranya questioned, rubbing her eyes, not daring to hope.

Kyelaeron nodded and whispered his plan to her. Aranya's eyes went wide.

'You are the best otorno!' She flung herself into his arms again, this time emanating joy, and determination.

'We can do this osellë.' Kyelaeron assured her.

The two proceeded to get their cards, confident in each other, that they would succeed.

sSSSsSssSssSssSSSs

The Noldor royalty sat in their box and nervously watched Siofra Aranya, who they all now knew to be one of them, compete in the trial.

Ara and Eärwen eventually did make it to breakfast after all, and Ara confessed that he knew the truth. His wife, sister and law-sisters proceeded to scare the life of Eru out of him with threats of what would happen to him should he spill this secret, Noldoran or not.

Each competitor made their way to a door. Siofra and Kyelaeron stayed together, choosing two doorways that were side by side.

The crowd went silent in anticipation, before  Olorin let off his signature fireworks,  signaling the beginning of the Trial.

Doors opened and shut in an instant, each competitor flying into each room, working on solving the riddle as quickly as they could.

_ Except  _ Siofra Aranya.

Siofra Aranya did not enter her room. She remained at the door, not opening  it a sliver.

The royals used osanwë to communicate, just to be safe.

_ What is she doing! Why isn't she going in!?  _ Aranfinwë questioned hysterically.

_ She was crying a minute ago, have the nerves gone to her head?  _ Eärwen suggested.

_ Well... if she does not get through, it will make our lives a lot easier...  _ Findis answered, earning herself four glares _... I am just being optimistic!  _ She raised her palms in  defense .

_ Is she protesting or something?  _ Anairë asked.

Nerdanel sighed.  _ I know why she is not going in... I swore not to tell anyone but... Can you all keep yet another secret? _

They all threw her looks as though to say, if they could keep a secret like Siofra, then they could certainly handle whatever Nerdanel was about to throw their direction.

_ She cannot read...  _ Nerdanel told them. Feeling the question in their stares, she continued _...Tyelkormo had a condition, the letters would jumble up in his head, he never learned how to properly read... he passed it onto his daughter... _

Nerdanel's in-laws were silent, in shock and pity for the poor nís.

_ So... Tyelkormo... he was never able to read?  _ Anairë questioned, to be sure. Nerdanel nodded solemnly.

_Fëanáro invented_ _a system, but Tyelko never had much heed. I introduced Siofra to it when she visited, that is why she was reading the family tree... She will master reading in time, but for now all she can do is sound words out... and that takes a while!'_

_ They must have a plan, Siofra and Kyelaeron!  _ Eärwen insisted.  _ She would not be so calm if she thought success impossible! _

Ara _ ,  _ Nerdanel and Findis nodded in agreement.

Anairë was lost in another time, feeling very guilty and ashamed for something that happened almost a thousand years before...

sSSSsSsSSSsSSsSss

_ Tirion, Y.T... _

Laurelin's light glistened spectacularly on the proud city of the Noldor. It was a fine day, the city bustling with life, cobbled streets and intriguing alleyways just waiting to be explored.

Five young neri sat impatiently in a room, imprisoned.

'Remind me why we are here again!?' Kano moaned.

Nelyo sighed, his cheek resting on his hand. 'Something, something manners something etiquette blah blah blah  _ APALLING!' _

'I NEED to  practice !' Kano exclaimed, annoyed.

'Oh shut up Kano! No one will die if you practice a little later than usual!' Tyelko snapped.

'For Eru's sake Tyelko! Huan is not going to die if you leave him alone for a few hours!' Kano shot back.

'He has never been in the city before! He could get trampled on... or...kidnapped...or shot or something!' Tyelko listed irrational fears like a nervous first-time mother.

'Trampled on by  _ what?'  _ Curvo asked. 'He is the size of a horse!'

'Ugh that  _ BITCH!'  _ Moryo exclaimed, punching the air.

Nelyo raised an eyebrow. 'What's wrong with you hanno?'

Moryo muttered a string of inaudible curses.

'He did the exam for the accountant job this morning.' Curvo explained. 'Some nís bested him by a few seconds!'

'SHE CHEATED! No one is better at numbers than me! Not even Atar!' Moryo proceeded to whack his head off the desk in front of him.

'Nelyo, do we really have to be here?' Curvo asked. 'Atar needs me in the forge!'

'Doesn't he always?' Tyelko rolled his eyes.

'Atar told me I had to make sure the four of you remained here, for the whole lesson. Grandfather wants us to do this.' Nelyo insisted.

'Grandfather Mahtan is way more fun than Finwë' Tyelko hmmphed.

' _ 'Way more fun'-  _ Atar would have your head for that vocabulary.' Curvo mocked.

'Hmmmph!'

'Atar is tired these days, what with the twins keeping him up. He could lose focus, in the forge that is dangerous!' Curvo played the 'forge safety' card. His brothers were all too familiar with it.

'Ambarussa sleep like logs. They never keep anyone up you dolt' Moryo muttered. 'And if Atar survived Kano's drumming phase he will survive this.'

'Excuse me?!' Kano, as always was highly defensive of his music. 'I won awards for drumming, I'll have you know!'

'Yeah, you won the most insane musician, at the  nocturnal awards.' Moryo retaliated sarcastically.

'I had to practice at night! I needed to focus on harp during the day!'

'I cannot be the only one who thinks it is dangerous how much of a workaholic you are.' Nelyo shook his head at Kano. 'And you're no better Curvo!'

'Our parents are crazy for work,  it's a miracle some of us escaped the curse!'  Tyelko leaned back and swung in his chair.

'I wouldn't do that hanno.' Curvo warned, gesturing to Tyeko's chair.

'Dont be such a bossy know it all Curvo... _ AHH AHHGHAA FUCK!' _

**_THUMP CLASH BANG!_**

'I did warn you. These chairs are crafted poorly.' Curvo smirked at his brother, who was after falling flat in his arse.

'Shut up' Tyelko rubbed his back, ego wounded.

'When this tutor arrives, I am going to make their life a pain, then they will quit and there will be no one to teach us!' Moryo announced.

'No Moryo!' Nelyo began 'I will get kill-...'

'I am going to insist I need to practice, and I'll sing my way out if I have to!' Kano interrupted.

'Kano you are meant to be on my sid-...'

'I am going to _ manipulate _ them into wanting to let us go.' Curvo said slyly.

'Curvo, you always  _ think _ you manipulate people, but we all can see straight through you-'

'I am going to jump out the window. Chances are Huan is under there and will catch me.'

'NO! no one is jumping out the window!' Neylo shouted. 'Look, I don't want to be here any more than all of you! But if we cause trouble, we will end up in a lot more of these classes than we wish! That is why you will let _me_ do the talking! I will use my political skills to negotiate us out of here! The tutor won't complain, therefore we won't be in trouble, and we all walk away happy and _not_ _dead!_ He threw Tyelko a pointed look.

The door opened and closed. Five heads shot up, expecting their tutor.

They were surprised to find no other than their  _ Aunt, _ by marriage, standing in front of them, a cool expression on her face.

'Aunt Anairë.' Nelyafinwë bowed his head respectfully.

'Nelyafinwë.' was the indifferent reply he received.

'Turcafinwë. Put on your shirt for Eru's sake!' Anairë locked eyes with the third son of Fëanáro, who was still swinging on his chair rebelliously.

'I am a Hunter, Lady, we don't  _ do _ shirts.' Was the smart arse reply Anairë received back.

'You are a Prince before you are a Hunter, Turcafinwë!' Anairë glared at him. 'This behaviour is  _ unacceptable _ .'

'If I am a Prince, then I outrank you, and you can't tell me what to do!' Tyelko folded his arms across his chest, not realising how inaccurate his statement was. As Nolofinwë's wife, Anairë outranked him.

He had said the following line to his mother many times, refusing to acknowledge that Nerdanel, as Crown Princess, severely outranked him.

Tyelko's four brothers groaned, they were sick of this debate. Moryo began whacking his head off the table again. Kano crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Curvo shook his head, looking at his third brother as though he were a daft child.

Nelyo gave Tyelko a pointed glare.  _ Put your shirt on NOW or Ambarussa will be walking before we get out of here! _

Tyelko met  Nelyo's gaze defiantly, for no short while.  However, he eventually relented, moaning and sighing and  hmmphing to no end as he pulled his shirt on, crookedly, inside-out and back-to-front, in spite.

Anairë threw him a smug smile. 'Good!  So the wild cat can be tamed!'

Tyelkormo let out a noise scarily similar to a growl.

Anairë ignored him. 'Boys, you are here to learn how to act like Princes. Since you have arrived in the city- only yesterday, your mannerisms have been observed as  _ diabolical _ , to be frank. You are not in trouble, it is not your fault, you grew up far from the palace. But now it is time to change, to get you all in shape! By the time I am done with you, you will have grown from immature boys to chivalrous Princes!'

'Like our cousins?!' Curvo asked, with forced enthusiasm.

Anairë smiled proudly. 'Aim to be as good as my sons and maybe someday you will almost be up to their standards!'

'That’s what I am afraid of.' Curvo mumbled inaudibly, before answering 'I shall strive to be like them  everyday ! In fact, I am going to go now and practice drinking tea with my pinky out.' He made to leave.

'SIT DOWN!' Anairë barked. 'And  _ straight!' _

All  neri subconsciously sat up and straightened in their seats.

_ Except _ Tyelkormo, who decided to slump even further on his chair.

'TURCAFINWË! SIT UP AND GROW UP!' Anairë threw him a look which would have had any less arrogant ner scared shitless.

Tyelkormo smirked. 'You want us to act like your children,  _ my Lady!  _ Your daughter was sitting like this at dinner yesterday!'

'And she has had etiquette lessons all morning, thanks to her little stunt at dinner.' Anairë was quick to reply. 'You do not give me attitude without paying the price, nephew!'

'Hmmph. That's funny. I could have sworn I saw your daughter hiding in a tree this morning.'

'YOU WILL LEAVE ÍRISSË OUT OF THIS!' Anairë lost her temper. '...Out of interest, which tree was she in?' she had to ask, her daughter had successfully avoided far too many lessons this year.

'I would tell you, but Princes have to keep to their word, and I promised I would not snitch.' Tyelkormo smirked, infuriatingly.

Anairë looked as though she was struggling to restrain herself from strangling him.

'What Tyelkormo is trying to say, Anairë...' Nelyo began, furious at his brother for making his speech-for-freedom ten times more difficult '...Is that we already know what qualities are needed in a well mannered Prince. And I think we would be much better off spending our time attending to our duties, as all Princes must.' He flashed her a brilliant smile, showing off his fair features.

Anairë barely acknowledged it. 'Do not worry, Nelyafinwë. You will have time to complete your duties _ and  _ attend your lessons.'

'But we can do more for the people if we spent this time striving to improve things in the city!' Nelyo argued.

Anairë shook her head. 'You know nothing of the people or this city' she replied, eyes distant.

'But-...'

'NO NELYAFINWË! You cannot debate yourself out of this mess!' Anairë snapped.

Nelyo finally gave up.  _ Nice try  _ _ hanno _ _...  _ Kano said slyly ... _ Now watch and learn... _ 'My Lady.' Kano flashed her a striking grin, lilting his voice in such a melodic way that one would almost close their eyes at the  blissful syllables and rhythm with which he uttered every word. 'I am a  _ musician _ . And I must practice. There is a very big competition coming up in a fortnight, and, as a Prince, I must do my people and House proud.'

'Well maybe, if your poise and mannerisms are perfect, you will gain a few extra presentation marks!' Anairë answered.

Kano laughed, fake but sounding so, so beautiful. 'Oh my Lady! That is not how it works!'

'Well perhaps you will just have to wait till next year to compete! We can't have you disgracing the House with poor etiquette, now can we?' Anairë shot back.

Kano was left to his last resort.

_ 'She looked so sweet from her two bare feet, to the sheen of her  _ _ nut brown _ _ hair!' _ He sang, as though his life depended on it.  Nelyo shook his head.  Tyelko ' hmmphed ' _.  _ Moryo's head took a few more whacks.  Curvo rolled his eyes _. 'Such a winsome elf, I'm ashamed of myself, for to see I was staring-...' _

'A little pitchy this morning  Kanafinwë , are we?' Anairë interrupted his performance. 'You really ought to warm up that voice before you perform! Maybe it is best if you do miss that competition!'

Kano was speechless. A strange form of horrified whine escaped his lips. Never before had his flawless singing been criticised in such a manner.

'What's wrong, cat got your silver tongue?' Anairë shook her head. 'Listen boys, none of your excuses or tricks will work on me! So stop wasting time and let us begin the lesson, I-...'

**_THUMP THUMP THUMP!_**

'MORIFINWË! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! YOU WILL MAKE YOURSELF BRAINDEAD!'

'Better the table does it than these  _ stupid  _ lessons!'

'SILENCE!'

**_THUMP!_**

Morifinwë knocked himself out.

'Oh no! I had better take him to the healing wing!' Curvo stood up immediately, and had the door opened before Anairë could even blink.

'SIT DOWN CURUFINWË!' Anairë roared.

Curvo obeyed reluctantly. 'You can't just leave our brother there, if anything happens to him, father would-...'

'BE QUIET' Anairë walked over to Moryo, inspecting his head. After a minute she rolled her eyes and sighed. She pulled his ear, none too softly.

'OWW!  ** GET OFF!'  ** Moryo roared. Anairë put her hands on her hips and threw him a glare. Moryo, realising he had ruined his guise of unconsciousness, frowned and refused to look Anairë in the eye.

'Enough of this childish nonsense!' Anairë glared at them  all .  _ Finally,  _ the  Fëanorions fell silent and listened. Anairë handed them each out a sheet of parchment. 'First we will begin with your speech. You have picked up the colloquial language of the countryside where you were raised. For formal occasions, such language is too casual. I have listed phrases you should say instead of the words you are currently using.  Turcafinwë , read the first one for us.'

Tyelkormo looked from the parchment to Anairë, to Nelyo, to Anairë. His face stiffened.

'Go on...' Anairë prodded.

More hesitation.

'No.'

'Excuse me.'

'No. I am NOT DOING IT!'  Tyelkormo snapped, using anger as a means to conceal his embarrassment.

'You  _ WILL _ read it, Turcafinwë!' Anairë insisted, close to losing her patience.

'Anairë...' Nelyo began ... 'Tyelko does not-...'

One harsh look from Tyelko was enough to stop Nelyo mid-sentence.

Anairë glared at Tyelkormo. Tyelkormo glared back.

_ 'Read it!' _ Anairë hissed, pointing to the sheet. The two were almost eye to eye.

Tyelko only had a limited amount of patience.

**_ BANG CLANK  _ ** **_ BANG! _ **

Tyelko knocked over his desk and chair.

**_ RIIIIP! _ **

He tore off his shirt as though it were strangling him.

** 'READ THIS, YOU BITCH!' **

He made a rather rude hand gesture as he stormed out the door.

Silence.

Tyelko's brothers were too shocked to move, as was Anairë.

Kano broke the silence a few minutes later, hoping his wit could get them out of trouble. 'Well, Aunt, you can see he is called hasty riser for a reason! Haha...'

Silence.

'It could have been worse...' Nelyafinwë chipped in '...he could have jumped out the window.'

Silence.

'All of you,  _ get out _ .' Anairë spoke eerily soft. 'We will resume this lesson  tommorow . And the King will be hearing about this, make sure you tell your  _ charming _ little Hunter brother that.'

The boys left the room in a blink of an eye.

Anairë narrowed her eyes, appalled at the sheer cheek of Turcafinwë Tyelkormo.

Their little misunderstanding caused a chain reaction of insults and arguments and stubborn refusal to back down. From that day forward, Anairë and  Tyelkormo were fierce enemies.

They never saw eye to eye again...

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

_Tirion, First Age 505..._

Siofra Aranya  _ waited.  _

It was harder than one would think. Especially for one as restless as she.

She did her best to ignore the shouts that made her way to her ears, telling her to  _ 'GO IN!'  _ or  _ 'HURRY GIRL!'  _ or _ 'YOU CAN DO IT PRINCESS!' _

'Princess'...She snorted at that name.

She tried not to feel embarassed. She did not need that now. Perhaps the crowd would not realise it was illiteracy that ailed her. Perhaps they would think it some form of strategy, a way to ensure she and Kyelaeron both got through...

That is, they would get through if she was quick enough...

_ I must go as fast as I possibly can... And I must ensure, no matter what, that  _ _ Kyelaeron _ _ gets onto the platform, even if I do not... He is risking his success, just to help me... _

Doors began to open, competitors flitted to and  fro , swapping rooms with each other. A few sly ones tripping and tricking along the way...

_Come on_ _Kyelaeron_ _!_

After what felt like far longer than five minutes, Kyelaeron finally emerged from his first room, a smile on his face. He had made good time, only a handful were onto their second room at this stage.

'Okay Anya, throw nine knives on target at the silhouette of the lion. It is not that difficult!'

Aranya nodded, ready to go. 'Nine knives, got it!' She opened the door.  Kyealeron made to enter the room Siofra had been 'guarding' for him.

Kyelaeron smirked as he heard Aranya exclaim to herself. 'Ah! Because a cat has nine lives!'

sSSsSSsssSsSsSsSs

Malta stared at the wall.

He had no idea what in the world this riddle meant.

He had been in the room almost four minutes. However, he felt no panic.

_ Hmmmm... _ He was stood in what appeared to be a greenhouse, full of heavily scented herbs.

In the middle, was a pit, in which a small fire blazed.

'One of us can turn flames to embers...' He read aloud to himself again.

_ Hmmm...  _

_I know of no plant that can do such!_

_Hmmm_

Time went on.

_Hmmm_

He had ten seconds left, he did not even bat an eyelid...

Ai I better hurry, time is running out!

Time... Time turns flames to embers!

Time... thyme?

_ Worth a shot anyway _ ... he shrugged.

Malta pulled the thyme and tossed it into the fire, which died away to embers, thanks to the Vala charm on it. The door opened. He received his stamp and strolled out into the hallway, ready for the next room.

Unknown to Malta, he was in the room for four minutes and fifty-nine seconds.

High up in the crowd, Tulkas shook his head with mirth. Nessa giggled and patted his arm, linked with her own.

'He has got to be the luckiest ner in the world.' Tulkas muttered to his wife. 'And he has  _ NO idea!' _

_sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs_

Mára was a little puzzled.

The city of Tirion was not her forte.

However, she was lucky- she knew someone who never shut up about the 'greatest city in Arda!'

_ Tyeliër?  _ She called through their bond.

_ Need my help already Melda?  _ She rolled her eyes at the smirk she could hear in his voice.

_ If I lose because of your teasing, you can forget about a future that has me in it!  _

Laughter...  _ Alright, Alright! What is it Melda!? _

_If I were a thief, escaping Tirion, where would I hide?_

More laughter.

_Tyeliër! Any time today!_

_Sorry... It's_ _just..._ _you won't like the answer..._

_Just tell me! Time is of the essence!_

_The sewers..._

_What!?_

_That is how a criminal would escape. They would go into the sewers. They are endless and have countless passages and alleyways to hide in, and so many exits it is unlikely one would get caught! The only trouble is, they smell..._

Mara scanned the room, and sure enough, there was an almost invisible man-hole in the floor. Lifting the lid, she crinkled her nose at the horrific stench _. Here goes nothing!  _ She sighed, climbing down into the passage that was the key to her escape...  _ Thank you, Meldo! _

_Actually, Melda, while you are there... What is the Avari's favourite tree?!_

_ Need my help already?!  _ She rejoiced in throwing his own words back in his face.

_Time is of the essence Mára!_

_ You never listen when I am talking!...  _ She mumbled _... Our  _ _ favourite _ _ tree is the Ash! _

_ Ahh! Clash of the Ash! It all makes sense now... _ she heard Tyeliër mumble to himself.

sSSSssSsSSssSsSs

Lindë was acing her trial.

She excelled at general  knowledge; thanks to the wisdom her grandfather had passed on to her.

Not twenty minutes had passed, and yet she had completed ten of the rooms.

She smirked as she found yet another riddle all too easy. **_I have no heart, yet I offer pleasure as well as death. No Elda can own me, or control me. I can be calm and fierce, yet I have no emotions..._**

 _Could they make it more obvious?_

Looking around the room, she realised the task at hand.

On one side of the wall, there was a small forest, on the other, a beautiful smooth and flat road, leading straight to the other side of the room...

Lindë knew better.

Funnily enough, what did she find on the forest floor, concealed among the leaves, but driftwood. Using the vines as rope, she made a makeshift raft. She made her way to the middle of the room, where there was a large pool, which somehow had currents and waves.

She paddled across.

Sure Lindë could have swam, but her gut told her that would have been  _ too _ easy.

The sea could be both calm and fierce after all...

sSSsSssSsSsSSss

Siofra waited outside in the hallway, waiting for Kyelaeron to figure out his current room.

She was very quick at completing her rooms, but then again, anyone would be quick when one had the answers already figured out for them...

_ Perhaps I can help somehow... I feel so  _ _ useless! Kyelaeron _ _?! Do you need help!?  _ She called to her  otorno , hoping she was not distracting him.

_ AGGHHAAA! SHIT! Not again!  _ was the frustrated reply she received.

_ What is it Kyelaeron?  _ Siofra asked.

_ The answer is the sea, I know it!  _ Kyelaeron replied.  _ But every time I try to swim across the sea a damn tsunami comes and washes me ashore! _

_ Really? A whole tsunami?  _ Siofra chuckled to herself at how much Kyelaeron could exaggerate sometimes.

_Fine, a massive tidal wave then! What does it matter, I am running out of time! Ai Anya, I don't know what to do!_ Kyelaeron panicked.

Siofra had been counting seconds.  _ You have about two minutes left, I will rack my brains! _

Siofra had no idea.

However, a miracle happened. Who emerged from a room a few doors down and made her way in Siofra's direction, but  _ Lindë.  _ She appeared in a hurry, but Siofra called her  nonetheless. ' Lindë ! If one was in the sea and a big wave kept sweeping them to shore, how would they keep swimming!?'

Lindë halted for a moment. 'Well I would take that as a sign to maybe not swim that day! But if you want to know how to succeed in  _ that _ room...' She nodded to the door, before whispering '...build yourself a raft from the driftwood in the forest!'

Before Siofra could thank her, Lindë was gone on to the next room.

_ Kyelaeron!...  _ Siofra called ... _ I have found a way! _

_sSSssSsSsSsSssS_

Malta was in another tight spot.

He had managed to get through eight rooms in thirty five minutes, which was not bad...

He had both luck and his osanwë link with Culoxë to thank for most of his success.

Now he stood in a room which  Culoxë had yet to complete...

He re-read the riddle aloud for what must have been the tenth time.

**_ 'With sharp wit and straight poise, settle these disputes without vocal noise.' _ **

_Hmmm..._

Malta stroked his chin. He fiddled with his ponytail.

He was in a room full of dummies, all which somehow looked  _ angry  _ at him.

_So they are angry at me... dispute...?_

_How does_ _one settle a dispute without talking?..._

He began fidgeting with the scabbard of his sword...

_Sword!... Sharp and straight!_

_Settles disputes... the good_ _old-fashioned_ _duels!..._

_But how_ _without_ _making noise?... Surely if one is struck..._

_Oh..._

_Malta knew what he had to do. He had to take is opponents 'down' in a single blow, quickly and quietly..._

Wondering which Vala was behind this room, which seemed rather dark to Malta, the  ner proceeded to make quick work of the dummies.

Sword fighting was his talent after all...

sSSSsSssSsSsSsSs

Kyelaeron took one step into a new room and found himself dangling in the air, trapped in a  _ net _ .

Looking down, he was able to read the wall.  **_ 'You are trapped in a web of lies, which is what I am, though you think I am real when you see me, and  _ ** **_ deep down _ ** **_ hope someday I will be true... How does one escape me?! Show me and my captor shall free you...’ _ **

Kyelaeron examined the ropes. So thick they were that he doubted five minutes would be enough to cut them... not to mention he would never escape uninjured from such a height... He had no choice but to  _ think. _

He worked on the riddle, pieces forming together in his mind, almost there...almost..

_It is a... a..._

**'AAAGHHHHAAA! GET OFF YOU PIECE OF SHIT!'**

Suddenly, Aranya yelled angrily, outside the door. None-too-gentle noises ensued.

_ ARANYA! Are you alright?!  _ Kyelaeron exclaimed,  panicked . What was going on out there?!

‘AGGGHAAA!’ _Y-yes Kye, I am fine... Some idiot wants to fight me... I can handle it! AAGGGAA! KEEP GOING KYELAERON!_

**_PUNCH!_**

**_SMACK!_**

**_BANG!_**

Kyelaeron was thrown off his game. The riddle... he had been about to solve the riddle...

His mind went blank.

He could hear Aranya, still fighting, outside. It sounded like there was more than one opponent...

_ I am no use to her up here...  _ He sighed, frustrated.

Kyelaeron closed his eyes and forced himself to  _ calm down. _

_Think..._

His eyes opened wide...  _ 'DREAM!' That is the answer...I am in a dream catcher! And to escape a dream one must... _

Kyelaeron pinched himself.

He was gently lowered to the ground.

He gained his stamp, and rushed out to face the commotion.

sSsSSsSSSSSsSsSsSsS

Vána, for the millionth time this Games, had to restrain her husband.

First he had made to storm into the arena when he realised Siofra was at a disadvantage, because she could not read...

And now, of course, he wanted to storm into the arena and give the two warriors, who decided to gang up on his Nielíqui, a taste of their own medicine.

_ RELEASE ME THIS INSTANT WIFE!  _ It was amusing how strong a grip Vána could keep on Oromë, when she wished.

_Oromë, you cannot interfere here! As if Siofra needs more attention on her at the minute!_

_ They are deliberately attacking her! They are trying to take her card! She could lose the Trial!  _ Although Oromë feared Siofra competing in the Games, he also did not want her out of them either. Vána found this paradox within her husband quite amusing...

_ They are behaving within the rules and if they cross that line by a hair's breadth they will be disqualified! S _ he assured him, hoping it would be enough, so that she could simply relax and enjoy the rest of the Trial...

_ DON'T YOU SEE, MELDA?!  _ Vána's assurance had little to no impact on  Oromë , and he continued to  attempt to break free from her grip.  _ THEY ARE ATTACKING HER NOT OUT OF SPORTSMANSHIP, BUT BECAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS OF THE ATTENTION SHE IS GETTING FROM THE PUBLIC! _

_SIOFRA IS FULLY CAPABLE OF DEFENDING HERSELF, LOOK MELDO, ONE IS TAKEN CARE OF ALREADY! Relax and enjoy the rest of the Trial Meldo, PLEASE!_

_HMMMPPHHH!_

Vána decided to hold her grip a little longer, _ just in case... _

_ It was a good thing she did... _

_sSSSSsSSSsSSSSss_

Siofra stood and waited for  Kyelaeron . All was well. She checked her card. Forty of the fifty rooms were complete.  Surely they would qualify, surely-...'

_'OOF!'_

Something, or more accurately,  _ someone  _ slammed into Siofra's side, knocking her to the ground.

Shaking off the shock, Siofra recognised the person who was currently pinning her to the ground to be one of the Noldorin Warriors.

Fínëa was his name. Little did Siofra know, he believed her to be Tyelkormo. He wanted to show off his strength by getting the most legendary Hunter known to the Eldar,  _ disqualified... _

** 'AAAGHHHHAAA! GET OFF YOU PIECE OF SHIT!' ** Siofra lost her cool.

Kyelaeron immediately was there in her mind, asking her if she was alright. She reassured him, before launching into a  full-blown attack on this  ner ...

One did not simply mess with the House of Finwë after all...

_sSSSSsSSsSsSsSSSSs_

'THAT'S CHEATING! NOT FAIR! WHAT AN ASSH-...'

Eärwen none-too-gently pinched Ara, preventing him from standing up in rage over what was happening to his grandniece.  _ MELDO! REMEMBER WHAT WE SAID ABOUT YOU NEEDING TO BE MORE DISCREET! _ She smiled as one loving the festivities, adding a small applause for good measure, a deadly threat beneath her facade. Ara gulped.

Nerdanel, Anairë and Findis all smiled daggers at him too.

On seeing the menacing gleam in their eyes, Ara composed himself, acting as serene as ever.

Turning to face the Trial again, pride and satisfaction raced through the hearts of each Noldo royal, as Siofra punched her opponent so hard, she knocked him out.

They absently applauded her, acting as though they cared little, deep down each of them wishing they could add another punch to the smug face of the  ner ...

sSSsssSsSsSsSssSs

**WHACK!**

Siofra, on top of her opponent, threw all her bodyweight into her punch, satisfied when she heard a  **_ CRACK!  _ ** noise, from his nose. Her opponent stilled, rendered unconscious.

She proceeded to fling him into the room she believed he had came from. Slamming the door, she dusted off her hands.  _ Disqualified... it served him right! _

She heard the crowd, mostly amused at her little stunt. She smirked.

Then she noticed it, in the corner of her eye...

Her card had fallen out of her pocket during the scrap. Taking a breath of relief, thanking Eru she had noticed it, she made a beeline for the ticket to the next Trial, not heeding her surroundings, focusing only on her card...

As she dived to the ground, her hand on the card, about to pick it up, a hard boot came crashing down on her hand.

**_ 'AAGGGHHAAA! FUCK!'  _ ** She cursed, the pain causing anger in her.

Looking up, she found herself towered over by a tall Vanya nís.

Alma was sick of Siofra Aranya getting all of the fame. She did not know nor care who this girl really was. An opportunity arose to disqualify the nís, and Alma would make sure she grabbed it with both hands. If she was the one who 'defeated' this 'amazing' huntress, then she would be the one the people talked about on the street.

Looking down at the Huntress, who blindly cursed her to know end, Alma pouted.

'Aww, you poor thing! My apologies moina! Here, let me help you...'

She finally released her boot, letting Siofra' bruised fingers breathe. Siofra pulled her hand away quickly and made to tackle the warrior to the ground.

Alma was quicker.

She kicked Siofra in the _ head,  _ leaving the Huntress dazed, and sprawled on her back.

Siofra tried to stand up. She blinked. She tried to ignore the dizzy feeling in her head, the blur in her vision, the grogginess. She strained her ears, trying to hear the crowd chanting for her, booing her opponent. However all she heard was a terrible ringing sound.

Even Siofra Aranya had her limits.

All she could do was watch, a tear rolling down her cheek, as Alma smirked and made to tear her card into shreds, muttering something smug which Siofra was glad she could not hear...

High up in the crowds, both Vána and Eärwen faced their biggest challenge so far, barely restraining their husbands from causing a scene and giving their connection away.

Siofra, feeling defeated, almost missed the blur of silver creeping up behind the proud Vanya warrior...

sSSSsSsSssSSssSSssS

Lindë was in her  _ final _ room.

On the floor in front of her was a huge map of Aman, stretching at least half a league in length. She could not even see  Alqualondë from where she now stood, on the west coast.

She looked at the wall. It read ' **XC.AMAN** '

Lindë pondered on the meaning of the riddle.

Of course, she noticed 'Aman' concealed within the word on the wall...  _ that must be some hint... the map of Aman is on the floor after all... _

_XC? Ai what does that mean?!_

_X... X can mean many things... treasure, kisses...Criss cross._

_C... C is an abbreviation of a word... Aman... Criss cross..._

Lindë's head shot up.

_Criss-cross country!_

_CROSS COUNTRY!_

_THE MAP! I have to run across Aman!_

Estimating she had about four minutes left, she began sprinting. This would be  tough; half a league was no short distance. But she would make it home.

Breathing deep, embracing the burn, ensuring her  stride remained long and tall,  Lindë reached  Alqualondë . She had made it across Aman!

She had completed the Trial...

She received her stamp and walked out the door.

_I must be careful... I must not be lax... I cannot let anyone get me disqualified now..._

Tucking her card into her underwear... _ what safer place?...  _ she began to make her way to the platform.

A familiar voice screaming halted her steps.. _. _

She turned around in time to see Alma kick Siofra in the head.

Lindë froze, disgusted at the fact that, not only was Alma fighting without the  honour that was central to being a warrior of Tulkas, but she was also getting away with such foul play. Technically she was not breaking the rules. Siofra was stunned, but not dangerously hurt.

Then Lindë saw Alma reach for a card on the ground, Siofra too dazed to fight back.

Lindë looked to the platform, and back to the níssi.

She could not let this go. If she ran for the platform now, she would never forgive herself, even if she went on to win the whole Games...

Alma was meant to be a comrade, on her side...

But  _ oh well. _

Alma wasted too much time shite-talking to a Siofra who could not even hear her mocking words.

Lindë ran, and pounced, pressing down on a pressure point which caused temporary paralysis. Alma fell to the ground in a heap.

Lindë was vaguely aware of the crowd cheering her on as she helped Siofra to her feet.

Siofra blinked, her vision coming back 'LINDË!' She shouted, clearly not able to hear her own voice yet. 'THANK YOU SOO MUCH!'

Lindë smiled. Just then, a door opened to her left. Out ran Siofra's otorno, frantic. Lindë explained what had happened to Siofra in two brief sentences, and let slip a few more answers to some of the rooms, before leaving Siofra in the hands of Kyelaeron, who thanked Lindë to no end.

As she sprinted for the platform, she turned around once more as she heard Siofra shouting again.

'KARMA IS A BITCH ISNT IT? YOU  _ BITCH!' _ Aranya proceed to tear Alma's card to pieces, dropping the shreds on the unmoving, but conscious  nís' face. 'THERE!  _ DISQUALIFIED! _ BYE  BYE !'  Kyelaeron was trying to drag his  osellë away, gesturing to the door he had just come out of, all but shoving a delusional Siofra into it.

Siofra eventually complied, but indulged herself one last statement. 'WHAT COMES AROUND GOES AROUND, YOU LITTLE-...'

Kyelaeron closed the door in Aranya's face, preventing her from shocking Tirion with her colourful palette of swear words.

Lindë smirked, and  _ ran. _

**_BANG CRACK BANG BOOM!_**

The familiar sound of the fireworks greeted Lindë as she clambered onto the platform, yet again becoming the first to complete the Trial...

sSSSsssSsSsSssSSs

Tyeliër  _ and  _ Mára were both in their final rooms.

They had 'accidentally' ended up working together for the whole Trial, and thus, their work was halved.

Tyeliër found himself in a lush orchard, presented with one golden bow and arrow to shoot with. The riddle of the room being ** 'Golden delicious'. **

Tyeliër figured he had to shoot one of the rosy red apples.

The only problem was, there was  _ hundreds _ of apples to choose from... and they all looked the same.

_ MÁRA?  _ He found himself calling for the one hundreth time.

_ Yes Tyeliër?  _ Came the smug reply.  _ Did I mention I am FINISHED?! I will wait for you, but hurry! _

_Congrats! Mind that card! And keep your eyes open!... But tell me...the apple one... 'Golden delicious'... what_ _in Arda does that mean?!_

Mára giggled.  _ I found that one easy! _

_You are not helping, Melda!_

_Alright, alright... Golden, as in sun-kissed, as in... the one apple that is not covered entirely by leaves! It is on the highest branch of one of the trees! You have to shoot it! Do not miss!_

_ No pressure at all then...  _ Tyeliër shook with nerves. This was the very last room, he could not mess up now.

He took a deep breath. Aimed. Fired.

He  _ missed. _

_ Melda! I missed! SHIT! I-... _

_ TYELIËR CALM DOWN!  _ Mára snapped, waking him from his  panicked rant.  _ Just breathe  _ _ Meldo _ _ ,  _ _ retreive _ _ the arrow, you have plenty of time. Remember what I told you about shooting! _

_ Ai...  _ Tyeliër took deep breaths, he found the arrow on the ground easily enough. Focused, ready, he aimed again.

_ And  _ he missed again.

_FUCK!_

_ Meldo, listen, you are letting the nerves get to you! Pretend it is just you and me, there is no Trial or nothing! You know how to shoot! You can do this! Now hurry, you have twenty seconds!  _ Mára did not let it show, but she was as nervous as Tyeliër. How could he mess it up now?

Tyeliër aimed, took a deep breath, lost his balance...

...accidentally fired...

The world stood still. He watched the arrow soar in the air, this shot was what his Games depended on... he could  _ not _ lose the Games like this...

An apple hit him on the head.

It was  _ the  _ apple...

...And embedded in it was the golden arrow

Tyeliër stared in shock at the apple for a moment. The door opened.

_MÁRA! I DID IT!_

_WAHOOOO!I NEVER DOUBTED YOU! Now come on Meldo, I am outside your door, how would you like to be the first Hunters to finish!?_

Tyeliër collected his final stamp. The two sprinted to the platform, laughing and kissing shamelessly as the sparks flew above them,  signaling two more spaces had been filled.

sSSSssSsSssssSsS

Vayelya and Amárië watched the Trial together.

Vayelya was very happy with the upper-class view Amárië secured for them.

Vayelya looked out for Kyelaeron, and wondered why he and Aranya were completing the Trial in such a strange way.

Amárië laughed at her friends  nervous expression. 'Relax,  Vayelya ! Only three spaces are filled!'

'I swear to  Eru , if he is the last to qualify again, and puts me through that panic again... I'll... I'll  _ disown _ him!'

Amárië laughed.

The two continued to watch the trial. Amárië gasped as she beheld Tyeliër and Mára's passionate kissing.

'Ai, young love! Oh it's such beautiful thing!' she sighed.

Vayelya shook her head and laughed at her  friend's antics.

**_BANG BOOM BOOM BANG!_**

Another warrior reached the platform. A Vanya warrior, with thick, golden hair, who almost looked  _ familiar... _

'Recognise him? Does he remind you of anyone!?' Amárië teased, almost bursting with excitement. 'That is Laurë's cousin, Culoxë! His brother was Kyelaeron's partner in the First Trial!'

'That explains alot.' Vayelya shook her head and wondered why she was still being teased for something that  _ never  _ happened!

'Why, did he remind you of your dear Laurë?!' Amárië pouted.

'As a matter of fact, he did. He cared about his precious hair more than anything else in the world!'  Vayelya answered.

sSSssSsSsSsSssSsSSss

Siofra winced as she pulled her bowstring taut. Her fingers were bruised and battered and already twice their size.

She poured all her anger for that Vanya  nís into her shot, yet she still missed. Siofra's weapon of choice was bow and arrow. She preferred it just a tad more than the spear. She did not really know why, though the fact her bow was silver and her spear was only wood,  _ may _ have had something to do with her  practicing her archery more as a child...

But now... now she could barely hold the bow without tears streaming down her face...

She had ten targets to hit, in five minutes. The riddle of this room was  ** 'Perfect shot' ** On the walls there was a magnificent painting of a herd of cattle. Five bulls could be made out in the mural, therefore Siofra needed to shoot ten 'bull's eyes', to achieve her perfect shot.

She raised her bow again, shook, then lowered her bow. She raised it again, ignored the pain and fired.

She  _ missed. _

It was so frustrating! She wanted to fling her bow on the  ground and go and stand on that  nís' fingers, to see how she liked it!

In her still-foggy, slightly hallucinating mind, a voice laughed. Siofra froze...  _ that _ laugh...

She had not  heard that laugh in over five hundred years...

She found herself lost in memory, lost in the days where her  Ammë was teaching her how to shoot, and Aranya would  misfire, and get annoyed, and would want to quit. But  Ammë never let her.

‘... _ There are no excuses, Aranya...’ _

Wanting to scream, she pulled the bowstring as far back as she usually would, taking time to aim, before releasing.

**_ THWAP!  _ ** The arrow landed right on target.

_ One...  _ Siofra counted.

‘... _ Good, Baby. Now do it again, prove it wasn't a fluke...’ _

Agony, Aim, fire, **_THWAP!_**

_ Two down...  _ Siofra released a breath of air.

‘... _ Everyone's fingers hurt at first... Keep going! The pain will only make you stronger! _ ...’

'AAAGGHHAAA'  **_ THWAP! _ **

_Three..._

‘... _ Now relax your muscles, Aranya, do not be so uptight, you will only make yourself stiff! _ ...’

**_THWAP!_**

_Four..._

‘... _ You have power, you are strong onya, but you must learn control. Control is necessarily in order to aim...’ _

**_THWAP!_**

_Five... OWWW! FUCK THAT HURTS!_

_ ‘...Getting angry will not get you bull's eyes, Aranya... that is why Atar is not as good as me! Bad temper!...’ _

_ ‘...I heard that, Melda!...’ _

Siofra struggled, yet she ploughed on.

**_THWAP!_**

_ Six _ ...

_‘...Baby, you are doing so well! Just a few more, and then I will give you all the cuddles you want! And we can do whatever you like for the evening!...’_

Tears, from the memory or pain, she was not sure.

**_THWAP!_**

_Seven..._

_‘...Aranya, Baby. I love you so, so much and I will miss you every single day and I love you, I love you...And here... I have a present for you...and I love you...’_

Ignoring the pain, in her hands and her heart...

**_THWAP!_**

_Eight..._

_ ‘...You are giving me your BOW!? THANK YOU AMMË, THANK YOU! I promise I will mind it and I will practice every day and next time you visit I will have improved tenfold!...’ _

_ ‘...Y-yes B-Baby...n-next... t-t-t- _ _ ime _ _... _ '

‘AAAGGGHHAAA! FUCK EVERYTHING!'

**_THWAP!_**

_Nine..._

_ ‘... _ _ Whatcha _ _ doing Anya?..’ _

_..._ _Practising_ _. For when_ _Ammë_ _comes_ _back.._ _’_   


‘  _... _ _ Oh...’ _

‘ _...JUST SAY IT, KYELAERON! SAY IT! SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!..’ _

_‘._ _...No._ _..Anya_ _... she's... she's not..._ _Ammës_ _these days have a habit of doing that...’_

' ** AAGGGHHAAAAAAAAAAAA!' **

**_THWAP!_**

_Ten!_

The door opened. Siofra took a deep breath, and a searing pain in her hand  pulled her back to reality.

She heard the voice in her head say one more thing, nevertheless, and she subconsciously smiled.

_That's my girl, Aranya..._

Meanwhile, at the tapestries, Írissë watched her daughter with a sad smile on her face.

_sSSsSSssSsssSsSSSss_

Malta was  _ finally  _ in his _ final  _ room...

He looked around, determined to attempt to do this room by himself...

_...Then again..._ Culoxë was already finished, what harm in asking him now? 

_ BROTHER?  _ He called in  osanwë .

_Malta! Where in Arda are you! Hurry! There is only one place left!_

_But I only heard fourteen fireworks..._

_Yes and nine of those were warriors returning!_

_Ah...I see..._

_What room are you in?_

_It's full of swords... I have to find_ _the_ ** _‘Blade that will not cut...’_**

_Look down.._

_Huh?_

_ It is a blade of grass  _ _ hanno _ _! Just pick one from the ground and  _ _ you're _ _ done! Don't forget your stamp, mind your card and sprint to the platform immediately!  _ Culoxë fretted like a mother hen.

_ Will do hanno!  _ Malta replied casually, as though he had all the time in the world.

Culoxë peered down the corridor from his position on the platform, trying to recall which room Malta occupied.

He caught a glimpse of two warriors,  making a beeline for the platform, and his heart sank. He was pretty sure they had already passed Malta's door.

To make matters worse, the two warriors in question Culoxë could not stand. Sanda and Seril, two arrogant pricks.

_Ai, I am sorry little hanno, perhaps-..._

**_BANG!_**

The two racing warriors were knocked unconscious by a door being flung open. Out ran Malta, whose door had been closer the platform than Culoxë realised.

Malta  didn't even notice the fact that he had just floored two fellow warriors. He ran to the platform, as he had been ordered.

**_BANG BANG BOOM CRACK!_**

Malta stole the last place for the warriors.

'What did I tell you hanno?!' Malta laughed. 'There was no need to worry nor rush!'

'You are the luckiest ner in the world.' Culoxë shook his head.

sSSSsSsSssSSssSSssS

Kyelaeron and Siofra raced to their final room.

There were three spaces left, all for Hunters.

This was the tense, last minute ending Kyelaeron had wished to avoid this time, but their 'game plan.' and Siofra's injuries had cost them some amount of time.

_We will be fine, we will get through..._

**_BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!_**

_ Two _ spaces left.

The crowd went eerily silent, in anticipation, not wanting to miss a single detail.

'KYELAERON!' Aranya shouted, still half deaf. 'MY HEAD IS TOO FUZZY TO USE OSANW Ë ! IF YOU NEED  ME YOU WILL JUST HAVE TO SHOUT!'

'OKAY ANYA.' Kyelaeron shouted, to make sure she could hear him. Aranya nodded.

Kyelaeron would rather not have to shout, not when it seemed the whole of Tirion could hear him, but he shook his discomfort aside, it was an Aráto Trial, one could not hold back and be shy if they wished for success...

Stepping into the room, Kyelaeron cursed as he saw what awaited him...

_ Birds...  _ A type of bird  Kyelaeron had never seen before...  _ Why  _ _ didn't _ _ we go here earlier!? When Aranya could use  _ _ osanwë _ _?! _

In front of  Kyelaeron , was tight rope wire, crossing the room. Beneath the wire, was a deep drop. A net would catch him, should he fall, however,  _ if  _ he  fell he doubted he would be able to clamber back up on time...

The riddle of the room was;  ** 'To cross  ** ** successfully ** ** , you must be the bird.' **

_I cannot fly, I cannot_ _transform_ _into a bird... I wonder...Perhaps there is a hint in the name...I wonder what one would call this particular species?_

Kyelaeron did not have time to try to figure out a species unknown to him.

'ARANYA!?'He called.

'YES?!' She responded, happy to be of some assistance.

'THERE ARE BIRDS IN HERE. I NEED TO IDENTIFY THE SPECIES. I HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM BEFORE!'

'WHAT DO THEY LOOK LIKE?! DESCRIBE THEM, OTORNO!'

'THEY ARE SIMILAR TO A SWALLOW, BUT THEY ARE NOT!' Kyelaeron began. He obseverd the birds a little longer. 'THEY HAVE NOT STOPPED FLYING SINCE I CAME IN HERE!'

'OH, I KNOW!' Aranya exclaimed. 'A ÞWIFT!'

'A. .. A SWIFT?'

'ÞWIFT!'

The arena realised what had just happened before Kyelaeron did.

The crowd gasped as one.

Tyeliër and Mára both face palmed.

The Elder followers of Oromë winced.

Lindë felt a shudder up her spine.

Malta asked  Culoxë what would he like for dinner, and in return received an explanation of what he had just missed, when he was lost in his own world.

Huan growled.

Oromë did not care for propriety anymore, he flopped to his knees and buried his head in Vána's lap, who stroked his hair soothingly.

The Noldor royals felt sick in their stomachs...

Kyelaeron  _ finally _ realised what had just happened.

_Oh no..._

_Oh no..._

_Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!..._ _SHIT! THIS IS MY FAULT!_

'ARE YOU ALRIGHT KYELAERON?' Aranya asked. She was oblivious to the chaos she had just caused, thanks to the current, poor condition of her ears.

She woke Kyelaeron up. Regardless of Aranya somehow speaking with the Fëanorion accent for the first time  _ EVER _ , there was still a trial to finish...

_ To cross the wire, I must be SWIFT!  _ Kyelaerin realised.  _ That makes sense... _

For one with excellent balance and coordination as Kyelaeron, quickly crossing the tightrope was a breeze.

The door opened. It was Aranya's turn.

Kyelaeron explained to her what she had to do. Aranya nodded.  Kyelaeron kept an eye out for any Hunters, leaving for the platform. While he would not like to fight one of his fellow Hunters for a place, he guessed if it came down to the wire, so to speak, he would.

Aranya was out of the room in less than a minute. The two made a desperate dash for the platform.

They were vaguely aware of doors opening around them, fellow hunters emerging, racing them to the end.

Of course  _ now _ , when Siofra was not talking, the crowd got loud again.

Siofra was usually faster than Kyelaeron, however, she had exerted far too much for one with a head injury. She began to stall...

Kyelaeron grabbed her arm and all but dragged her along...

And then Siofra _tripped_ _._ She was up again in an instant, but her fall had cost them. One ner, Lomaka, slipped past them.

They ploughed on, and reached the platform.

**_BOOM CRACK BANG!_**

However, there was only one space left.

Sensing several desperate competitors behind him, Kyelaeron made the ultimate sacrifice.

He picked Aranya up, despite her protests that he should go on, and placed her on the platform.

**_ BANG BOOM BANG  _ ** **_ BANG! _ **

T he final firecracker went off.  Kyelaeron heard his chasers halt behind him, panting.

_So it is over... I did my best._

Suddenly a someone yanked him by his ear.

'Get up here, right now, Kyelaeron! Before the others realise!'

'Anya, I lost, I...-'

'JUST. DO. IT.  _ NOW!' _

__ Kyelaeron was more scared of that tone of voice than he was scared of  embarassment . 

Sighing, knowing Aranya could not try to trade her place for his at this stage,  Kyelaeron stepped up, earning him a  _ another _ gasp from the crowd.

Aranya had one final trick up her sleeve.

'LOMAKA!' She yelled, like the bossy princess she was born to be, not realising how loud she was speaking. 'WHERE IS YOUR CARD?'

Another collective gasp. Lomaka did not appear worried however. 'It is right here... in my side pocke-...'

The ner was shocked to find his card was nowhere to be found.

Siofra place her hand on his shoulder and gave him an apologetic smile. 'I AM SORRY COMRADE, WHEN YOU RAN PAST  ME, I GRABBED IT AND THREW IT ON THE GROUND! IT WAS YOU OR MY OTORNO,  _ FORGIVE _ ME.'

Kyelaeron's eyes widened as he realised what his sneaky little osellë had done for him...  _ That meant... that means... _

**_BANG CRACK BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!_**

Kyeleron had made it by the skin of his teeth... _ again. _

Thank Eru, Lomaka was gracious in defeat. He shook Siofra's hand. 'Well played.' He smirked, before nodding to Kyelaeron and jumping off the platform.

The crowd cheered.

With no adrenaline left to keep her going, supporting a concussion and a severely painful hand, Siofra Aranya fainted. Kyelaeron caught her, knowing all too well when his osellë was faking health.

Siofra Aranya slept soundly for the rest of the day and night, and recovered, completely clueless to the amount of damage her 'þwift' mishap had done to the hard labour of her loved ones, attempting to protect her from the harsh, cruel world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW! WRITING TRIALS IS SO HARD!
> 
> A very long chapter, I know, but I don't like to leave ye cliffhanging! ~~like Maedhros.~~
> 
> I knew I would have to explain why it is 'Siofra' and not 'þiofra' eventually. (I think everyone is glad Tyelkormo chose a normal 'S' when naming his child)
> 
> Now, I am pretty sure 'þquirrel' is gramatically incorrect, like it's impossible to say... but Tyelko was running out of 'þ' words and getting desperate.
> 
> Little Siofra, learning about swifts from Oromë: 'Wow, þwifts are so cool!'
> 
> Oromë: Meh, she will grow out of the accent.
> 
> I dont know why I found the Ara/Eärwen, manipulation-with-sexy-time really hilarious, but I did.
> 
> Anairë's tattoo... once a badass always a badass.
> 
> Anairë and Findis: 'Nothing can possibly go wrong!'
> 
> Siofra: ' þ...'
> 
> My indulgent piece in this chapter was the Fëanorions' etiquette lessons. I loved writing all of them, but yeah, especially Tyelko as an arrogant little adolescent shit. Whose side are we on? Tyelko's or Anairë's?
> 
> I mean Anairë was wrong to force Tyelko to read, but she didn't know... Then again, she probably deserved the 'BITCH!' bc she was acting like one. Then again, Tyelko was acting like little shit... so maybe he deserved to be embarassed?...
> 
> For anyone who cares about Ireland, Kano was singing 'The Star of the County Down' because I don't do poetry, and instead steal songs from my culture. 
> 
> Also, if anyone got the Vengaboys reference with the fireworks ... I am sorry I had to put it in there!
> 
> Also the tiktok song 'OH NO!' made a cameo too.
> 
> Kyelaerons jokes about royal blue and karma are priceless. Aranya has no clue like.
> 
> I felt so sorry for Siofra when she's there panicing at the start of the trial. Like poor baby!
> 
> Okay... The Trial... I hope you liked it! I tried to make it as exciting as the last...
> 
> Lindë is a genious.
> 
> Malta is proof that a good hairdo will let you conquer the world, like literally, nothing ever goes wrong for him.
> 
> Alma is a bitch and I love Siofra for embracing her inner Fëanor and losing the plot with her...
> 
> Mára means business.
> 
> If Tyeliër was a soccer player, he would be useless at penalties
> 
> Culoxë worries for no reason.
> 
> Kyelaeron is the best otorno.
> 
> Siofra is like the Aragorn of this story, like yes she would probably fall of a cliff, survive and go to battle later that day...
> 
> Okay, so the part where Siofra remembers Írissë teaching her archery. Is it completely a memory or were certain parts of it Írissë somehow communicating from Mandos? Personally, I think it is all a flashback, but if you want you can interperet it as their mother-daughter bond surviving beyond the grave and... Aiii! I wanna cry now!
> 
> Anyway, I hope ye all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you all think. I know a lot of you loved the First Trial, so did the Second Trial live up to the standards? Next chapter I am thinking of doing a little interlude, to catch up with the gang...'Meanwhile, in Endor.'...maybe.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> SiofraMarina x


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